The Force of Souls
by ghxstking
Summary: Ezra's past has always been something of a mystery, even to himself. He remembers a fairly happy childhood with his loving parents, but they had always seemed to be afraid of something. It was more than fear of the Empire; it was something much more personal.
1. Prologue

**This is for all those people who read my one shot _Alone in the Dark_ and were demanding that I continue it! I never really had any plans to do so, but since you all seemed to like the idea I figured I would give it a go. It will follow the same premise as the one shot, but it won't be the exact same story. I hope that's okay with you all! I'm treating this chapter as a test run, so let me know what you think. ¡Muchísimas gracias!**

* * *

A blinding light dangling directly over his head, causing the beings moving around him to appear as shadowy figures.

Mumbled words passing over him before he can focus on them, their meaning not reaching his tired mind.

All movement around him ceasing, a single dark figure stepping up to observe him. For some reason, he knows he should be terrified of the being before him, but he can't summon the energy to feel much of anything. He stares blankly at the figure, waiting patiently for whatever they plan to do to him.

A gloved hand resting on his shoulder in what might have been considered a fatherly gesture in different circumstances. There is more mumbling somewhere to his left, and the figure in front of him speaks. They are the first words he is able to distinguish, but they are far from reassuring.

"Let us proceed."

Everything around him fades as his world becomes dominated by pain. The sound of screaming barely registers to him. He only realizes that it is his cry of agony when he runs out of breath.

His throat is too raw to continue the wretched noise. This time will surely be the end of him. He wishes the pain would just stop and everyone would let him rest peacefully. He wants everyone in the room responsible for this to leave him alone. He wants the pain to stop, oh please stop, just STOP-

The pain ends as suddenly as it began. He is used to this. What he is not accustomed to is the deathly silence that permeates the room. Usually there is the sound of vitals being read off or observations being compared. Now there is nothing.

He opens his eyes to see the light above him flickering in an unsteady rhythm. His heavy breaths could be seen in the now frosty air. Nothing moves, the stillness adding to his confusion and fear.

The gloved hand returns to his shoulder unexpectedly from behind, causing him to jump in alarm. He knows that speaking out of turn means punishment, but he can't stop the words from escaping his lips in a small croak. "What happened?"

A dark chuckle does nothing to calm his nerves. It only confirms his suspicions that something is horribly wrong. The being from before is in front of him again, and in the flickering light he can just make out a smile on its face. "You performed extraordinarily well, child. I believe it is time for you to rest, don't you?"

The hand is now on his forehead, the welcoming darkness of unconsciousness rising up to greet him with open arms. Before he slips into its embrace, he mumbles the mandatory response.

"Yes, Master."


	2. Chapter 1

**I forgot to mention that this is all happening fairly early on in the Rebels timeline, which means Ezra's only been on a few missions with the crew and they have yet to face the Inquisitor. It also means that even though Kanan and Ezra have formed a bond with each other, their relationship is still a little rocky. I'm still kind of hesitant about this story, so comments are greatly appreciated. Please let me know what you think!**

* * *

Ezra gasped as he sat up, feeling completely disoriented. It was dark, too dark to make out the room he was in, and in his waking state he was having trouble thinking straight. Where was he? What was going on?

His anxiety spiked when he felt a hand suddenly grasp his shoulder. With a cry of alarm he attempted to free himself from the grip, flailing wildly and almost falling out of his bunk. His bunk? That was right. He was in his bunk on the Ghost, in the room he shared with Zeb. And the hand on his shoulder probably belonged to-

"Ezra!"

Kanan was standing next to him and was frantically trying to shake him into awareness. Worry was clear in his demeanor and his voice. "Ezra, come on! You're okay!"

He slowly managed to calm himself down and return his breathing to a normal pace instead of sounding like he had just run a marathon. Clarity of mind as well as vision came with his calmness, and he was now able to make out the silhouette of his roommate as well, standing near the door. He could feel his face growing warm with embarrassment and was glad that the lights were off. He had managed to wake not just one but two member of the crew somehow in his sleep. Who knows what he had been doing to cause such a disturbance. He collapsed into a heap on his pillow with a groan. "I don't know what I was doing, but I'm sor- Ow! Zeb!"

The comforting protection of darkness was stripped away as Zeb flipped on the lights with an unsympathetic, grumpy glare. The Lasat was definitely not pleased about being woken up in the middle of the night. After he was sure he had successfully blinded Ezra, he gave a satisfied grunt and grabbed his bedroll, mumbling complaints under his breath. He stalked angrily out the door once he had gathered his things, calling back over his shoulder, "Brat's all yours, Kanan. Either talk some sense into him or knock him unconscious, I don't care; just make him be quiet!"

Kanan sighed and ran a hand over his face as he watched Zeb leave before turning his worried gaze back to Ezra. The teen felt guilty to see him so tired and know that it was his fault. And he couldn't even remember what the whole fuss had been about! The harder he tried to focus on his dream, the further is slipped away. The whole process was made even more frustrating by the predictable question that inevitably came next.

"What's wrong?"

Ezra groaned and rolled over to face the wall, unable to force himself to look at Kanan's tired and worried face any longer. "I don't know. It's nothing, alright? Let's just go back to sleep and pretend it never happened."

Kanan made no move to leave. "Ezra-"

"Fine, pretend for a few hours and bother me in the morning!" Ezra snapped as he stared grumpily at the wall. Why couldn't his mentor see that he didn't want to talk about it and leave him alone for once? He knew, in the part of his mind that was more reasonable and less annoyed, that Kanan bugged him about this kind of thing because he cared. But right now he was going to ignore reason and stick to annoyance, firmly stealing himself against the gentle questioning probe Kanan sent to him through their bond. Maybe if he held his mental shields and pretended to fall asleep, the message would finally get across.

The silent clash of will lasted for several minutes, enough time for pretending to sleep to turn into actually falling asleep once more. Kanan shook his head and muttered something about "stubborn kids" shuffling back towards his own bunk, hitting the lights on his way out. Ezra barely heard the door hiss shut behind him, once again alone in the dark as he fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Waking up the second time was definitely much less stressful than the first. However, Ezra was still feeling the effects of last night's events and was slightly less alert than usual. And by slightly he meant much less alert, to the point that he literally fell out of his bunk in his attempt to find the ladder. While that did manage to make him more aware, it also brought back his foul mood. He finally made it out of his room and headed off in search of food, still grumbling darkly and too focused on his own predicament to notice or be curious about the wadded-up blanket lying next to his door.

The kitchen was obnoxiously bright, but the need for food was stronger than his need for sight at the current moment, so he decided to deal with it. Unfortunately, that wasn't the only obstacle in his quest for sustenance this morning.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't sleeping beauty." Putting down his steaming mug, Zeb leaned back in the chair he had claimed at the table and smirked. "Don't you look lively?" Despite being woken up in the middle of the night he seemed no worse for wear. In fact, he was pretty chipper from his usual morning self, which only acted as fuel for Ezra's grumpiness. Why did the stupid Lasat have to be so loud and cheerful right now? Well, not exactly cheerful, but he was definitely enjoying the situation way too much.

"You know what would help with that grogginess? Actually sleeping through the night. It's a foreign concept around here, so I wouldn't be surprised if you've never heard of it-"

Ezra scowled and pulled open a random cabinet, trying to distract himself from the goading. He was determined not to rise to the bait. "Shut up, Zeb."

"-but you might want to give it a try! I hear it's marvelous. Never actually been able to try it myself because some Loth-rat keeps screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night-"

"Zeb. Stop."

"It's pretty impressive, actually. I don't know he manages to do it every single night but-"

"Zeb!" The cabinet door swung shut with a forceful slam seemingly on its own as Ezra whirled on the Lasat. "Please stop. I get it, okay?"

Zeb held up his hands in a placating gesture and went back to drinking from his mug thoughtfully. "Alright, just trying to make a joke. But seriously, kid, what is going on with you?"

He had known this was coming. It had been the same routine for weeks now. He would wake up screaming, someone would calm him down, and he came to breakfast in the morning to face interrogation from the concerned and sleep-deprived crew. And every day they received the same answers. He was sick of it, and definitely not in the mood to deal with it one more time. Instead of sticking around to play along, he headed for the door, wanting to be anywhere other than this room. "I don't know. Just… please stop asking."

Ezra slipped into the hallway before Zeb could protest and started walking. He didn't care where at the moment; he just wanted to get away. He walked passed Sabine without acknowledging her yawned greeting, earning a shrug from her as she headed for the kitchen. Before she made it there, however, she made a detour to Hera's room and popped her head in and hollered, "Ezra's sulking again!"

"Alright, we'll handle it," Hera called back and waved the teen along. She turned back to Kanan, who was currently collapsed on her bed, and raised an eyebrow. "You hear that, love?"

She smiled slightly at the groan she received in response, but when the man showed no signs of moving it quickly disappeared.

"Kanan, go talk to him."

"... Can't you bring him back here so I don't have to get up?"

Hera rolled her eyes and grabbed hold of Kanan's arms, forcefully pulling him to his feet and ignoring the dirty look he gave her for taking away his comfort. "No, I can't. Go talk to him."

Kanan sighed in defeat and stumbled into the hallway. Hera watched him go before collapsing onto the bed herself, deciding that she could sleep for a few more minutes before getting breakfast. This nightly ritual was taking it's toll on the entire crew. They needed to figure out what was wrong with Ezra, and fast.


	3. Chapter 2

**Oh my goodness, you guys are the best! I can't thank you enough for all the support. I hope you all continue to enjoy it!**

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Kanan would have never claimed to have the best sleeping habits. He had lost count of how many times he had told Hera he was going to bed, only to have her find him still working on some part of the ship or going over a mission plan several hours later. Even when he went to his bunk or, more likely, when Hera forced him to go, he would lay awake for hours before drifting off. There was no real reason for it that he could find; it was just how he was. The little sleep he did manage to get was enough to give him the energy he needed for the day, so it never bothered him. It exasperated Hera to no end, but he was fine.

All of that changed when Ezra arrived on the Ghost.

It had started with him actually feeling tired enough to go to bed at a decent hour and sleeping through the night. Hera had joked about finally being able to talk some sense into him, and Sabine playfully jabbed at him showing his age. He had been a little confused by the sudden change in his habits, but not enough to warrant any concern, so he had laughed along with them.

That had quickly been followed by the fear. It slipped unbidden into his dreams and had him waking up covered in sweat and gasping for breath. He could find no rational explanation for the feeling, and yet it still attacked his unconscious mind, attaching itself to his dreams like a parasite. And with his new-found need to sleep more and more, he was having a hard time avoiding it.

It wasn't until Ezra's screaming started that he put it together. That night had been the first in a while that he hadn't been able to sleep. He had laid down early, as he had been for the past week or so, but an underlying feeling of uneasiness had caused him to just stare at the ceiling and wait. For what, he didn't know. He just felt on edge, like something was going to happen. He didn't have to wait for long. A sharp pain had stabbed through his head just as a blood-curdling scream ripped its way through the sleepy silence of the Ghost. Kanan had been out of his room and at the door to Ezra and Zeb's shared one in a heartbeat, frantically punching in the code and rushing inside as soon as he was able.

Zeb pushed past him to exit the room, growling something about it being too loud and not being able to wake the kid up before waiting at a safer distance with a concerned look on his face. Kanan would have commented on the Lasat actually caring for Ezra when he constantly pretended he couldn't stand him, but he was more worried about finding out what was wrong. And something was very, very wrong. Ezra was thrashing violently in his bed, trying desperately to escape whatever was in his nightmare. The screams themselves were full of such raw pain, misery, and fear. They were something Kanan was likely to never forget, loud and terrifying. It was as if his new padawan was dying right before his eyes while he was forced to watch, unable to do anything to help.

He quickly shook off the feeling and reached out to Ezra through their bond. There was definitely something he could do in this situation, and he was determined to end Ezra's unconscious suffering. After much hollering and shaking, the screaming cut off so abruptly that he feared for a moment the boy had actually died. But to his relief, Ezra sat up in his bed with a gasp. The kid was fine, he assured himself. He wasn't going to see another Jedi die tonight. He kept telling himself this as he comforted the boy until he was relaxed enough to fall back to sleep.

He had left the room to be confronted not just by Zeb, but Hera and Sabine as well, both extremely worried. He had waved off their concerns and told them that everything would be alright. It was just some random night terror. Ezra had calmed down and things could go back to normal. He had firmly believed that up until the next night, when the incident repeated itself.

Now, several weeks into the nightly episodes, he was wondering how much more of this everyone could take. He had started sleeping outside the kid's room, ready to be at his side the moment the first scream left his lips. Zeb was having some issues with his sensitive hearing from being in the same room and had made a habit of sleeping elsewhere, waking up extremely grumpy. Sabine and Hera were also suffering from it, both of them showing more and more visible dark circles under their eyes and nodding off occasionally during the day. Ezra himself was obviously feeling guilty that he was causing the crew so much trouble and annoyed that he couldn't help them out because he couldn't remember anything. This led him to hide out in random parts of the ship to sulk and avoid the crew's questions.

That's what Kanan found him doing in the cargo hold behind a few scattered crates in the corner. When he heard him approaching, Ezra scooted a bit to the left to give Kanan room to sit, but otherwise didn't say anything to acknowledge him. They sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The unspoken tension slowly grew to an almost unbearable level, to the point that Kanan felt like he needed to say something to try to rectify it. "Ezra, what's-"

"It hurts."

"What does?" Kanan asked in confusion. Had Ezra injured himself this morning? Or did this mean… He grabbed Ezra's shoulders and forced him to look at him. "Ezra, are you talking about your dreams?"

Ezra refused to look him in the eye and was resolutely staring at the ground between them, but the small nod was all the confirmation Kanan needed. If he was remembering things, then they might be able to help him! When Ezra didn't elaborate further, he gave his shoulder a slight shake. "Kid, come on. What else do you remember?"

"I'm not sure, okay?" Ezra spat out as he jerked away from Kanan's hand and leaned back against the crate, looking anywhere except at his mentor. "That's why I didn't want to stick around for breakfast," he mumbled as he wrapped his arms around himself and pulled his knees to his chest. "I know I'm making things difficult for everyone and you want to help me, but if I said I remembered something everyone would keep asking me about it. I can't really explain it! It's… more like a mixture of feelings. They're not really memories."

Kanan nodded thoughtfully at Ezra's explanation. Even if Ezra didn't think so, feelings were memories in their own right, and anything the kid remembered could be helpful in figuring out what was going on. "Alright, then what do you remember feeling?"

"Everything hurt. I felt like I was dying and I just wanted it to stop, so…"

"So?" Kanan encouraged Ezra to continue.

Ezra sighed and finally looked Kanan in the eye. "So I made it stop. And he was really pleased that I did."

"Wait, wait, wait. How did you make it stop? And who is this 'he'?"

"I already told you, I don't know! I'm sorry!"

"Calm down, kid, it's okay!" Kanan quickly attempted to smother his flow of questions and let Ezra be. If he kept pushing like this they would never get anywhere. It was best to take baby steps and build up to something bigger. However, there was one question that he felt he needed to ask: "Are you going to be alright for the mission?"

It felt good to see Ezra's serious expression melt into something much more suited for his age, a mixture of confusion and a hint of exasperation. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, since things were different this time-"

Ezra rolled his eyes as he stood up and extended a hand to his mentor. "I'll be fine. This thing - whatever it is - hasn't stopped me before, and I'm not going to let it stop me now."

"Are you sure?" Kanan remained sitting and stared questioningly at his padawan. "You seemed pretty shaken up. No one will judge you if you sit this one out."

"Seriously, Kanan, it'll be okay. But could you do something for me?"

"What?"

"Could you wait to tell everyone else what I said? At least until after this mission. I don't want to make them more distracted or anything."

Kanan considered the request thoughtfully. It would probably be better to wait to talk to the crew about all of this. It would only make them more concerned. "Sure kid. We can wait, but don't keep it from them for too long. They're worried about you."

Ezra ran a hand through his hair and laughed uncomfortably. "Yeah, I know."

Kanan allowed Ezra to help him up and walked with him back to the kitchen to join the crew. Even though he had agreed not to talk about it yet, he couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that he should. That it was important for everyone to know now, before the mission. He quickly brushed off the feeling. After all, it was just going to be a simple op. How could Ezra's dreams be related to something like that?

* * *

 **Special thanks to Camicazi Toothless, Chiibe the Rebel, Delta General 42, ErisEclipseNui, EzravsTheEmpire, Force sensitive, Mercy Smith, Redder45, Silver shines in moonlight, Specter14, SWFangirl, TheUltimateAngela, gracelions, lamtuyetminh179, rachel106734, rebel-blueberry, summer490, undisciplinedpadawan, and jpeck2000. You guys rock!**

 **ErisEclipseNui - Chapters will come as fast as I'm able to write them! :)**

 **coraliturbe - ¡Gracias! Me alegra que te guste.**

 **EmpressRulerofallthatiswierd - I updated as fast as I could! I will try to make the wait worth it!**

 **Chiibe The Rebel - Yeah, I stopped there because I needed to end the chapter somewhere. I thought it was a little abrupt, but looking back on it it's kind of cliffhanger-ish isn't it? Oh well! XD**

 **Paint the Fangirling Wolf - I hope I've sated your inner fangirl for the time being!**

 **Ichichi05 - (^_^)**

 **Specter14 - Sorry if Zeb was annoying. He's just tired like the rest of the crew. Also, he seemed like someone who would be good for exposition at that moment. And yes, poor Ezra! The blueberry needs a hug.**


	4. Chapter 3

**I finally finished this chapter! Yay! Also, I have rediscovered the wonder that is the Homestuck soundtrack, and I may start reading MS Paint Adventures again! Now all I have left to do is smile and wave as the rest of my free time leaps out the window and into the abyss. If any of you have read Homestuck, tell me if it's worth getting back into or not and what your favorite soundtrack is! (Right now for me it's a tie between Pipeorgankind, A Taste for Adventure, and Pumpkin Party in Sea Hitler's Water Apocalypse) :P**

* * *

He knew he had been a problem ever since he had first boarded the Ghost. He got in the way of everyone, messed up the system that had been in place for who knows how long, and wasted time by being the ignorant kid that had to have almost everything explained to him when everyone else already knew the information he didn't. And on top of all of that, he kept the entire crew from sleeping. It was surprising that they still wanted him around, but for some reason they still seemed to care.

It was a strange concept, having people actually worry about him. After being alone for so long it was taking some getting used to. He knew the crew sometimes interpreted it as him thinking that they didn't actually care, but that wasn't the problem. What Ezra didn't understand was why. He was a pain, an annoyance, a hinderance, a stupid street rat that had no business being involved in this fight and probably should have been gone a long time ago. It would have been better for everyone, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to leave. After that first mission he might have been able to, but now it seemed impossible. He was drawn to this crazy band of rebels, even if he didn't understand them being drawn to him.

Even though there was some sort of bond between them, he was still hesitant about getting close to the crew because he knew where that would lead. With Hera doting on him and patiently answering every one of his questions with a smile, Kanan teaching him the ways of the Force and trying to keep him in line, and Zeb and Sabine playfully teasing him but being there to have his back… It was the family he had longed for for so long. But families didn't last, especially those who drew the attention of the Empire. Pulling away was his last feeble attempt to save himself and the crew from the pain that would inevitably come their way.

That was why he hid himself away in different parts of the Ghost when he felt overwhelmed and emotional. That was why he tried to avoid revealing too much when Kanan came to find him.

That was why he didn't tell Kanan everything he remembered.

It was probably a stupid decision, and Kanan would find out sooner or later (preferably later), but it was for the same reason that he'd asked his mentor not to share with the others just yet. And how would he have explained the mind-numbing coldness that he had felt after the pain had stopped? And the eyes - the glowing yellow eyes full of such malevolence and power that haunted him even now, in the safety of consciousness - how would he have explained those? Were those details even important? He didn't know, but he didn't want to burden Kanan with so much information right before a mission. It would only be a distraction. It was better to wait.

At least, that was what he tried to convince himself of as he half listened to Hera explain the details of the op to him and the rest of the crew. It was strange. Every time he almost managed to completely believe he was doing the right thing, He would be overwhelmed with a strong feeling of uneasiness, like this was the calm before a terrible storm that only he could tell was coming.

He was so focused on his internal conflict that it took Hera calling his name three times to get through to him. "Sorry, what?"

Hera stifled a yawn and waved a hand in his general direction. "I was asking if you were listening, but I think we already answered that. Try to pay attention, okay?"

Ezra grinned apologetically and nodded, forcing his focus to shift to the conversation at hand. It was ironic that in trying not to distract everyone else by keeping information to himself, he was the one who was zoning out. He found this realization to be much funnier that it usually would have been, most likely because he had reached that strange stage of sleep-deprivation that made people all giggly. He probably would have started laughing if he hadn't looked over and made eye contact with Kanan. His master's worried gaze and weary appearance was enough to sober up the hilarity immediately and send a flash of guilt through him. He turned away quickly before Kanan could catch it and kept his gaze locked on Hera as she continued.

"What we're trying to grab is mostly pretty standard stuff: weapons, health supplies, and whatever else we may need that we can get our hands on. But there's something else that's rumored to be shipped here, which is why we're so interested in it."

Kanan took Hera's pause as his queue and continued. "There's possibly some older Republic artifacts, specifically items related to the Jedi." That got all of their attention. Sabine and Ezra leaned forward in interest, and Zeb even raised an eyebrow at the revelation. "The tarkin in charge of this area has been trying to get in the favor of the Emperor recently, and we know he's been sniffing around for this kind of stuff."

"It's our job to find any and all of these items and make sure that they never reach Coruscant," Hera chimed in with a determined expression, appearing much more awake than she had been before.

This comment was met with several nods of agreement before everyone began to head off to prepare what they needed. Ezra turned to go to his room when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Kanan, of course, with eyes full of worry that brought back the gnawing feeling of guilt. He had been so close to quenching it with his focus on the mission! Despite the weight of his thoughts, he was still able to feel mildly grateful when Kanan glanced around to make sure they were alone before speaking.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay? You don't have to-"

Ezra sighed in exasperation and brushed the consoling hand off of his shoulder. "I'm fine. Stop worrying so much. Why is this such a big deal now?"

"I… it's probably nothing."

The hesitation would have usually made Ezra stop and pester his mentor until he spit out what was bothering him, but he was too distracted by his own thoughts and feelings to notice. Instead, he continued towards his room while shouting over his shoulder, "Then stop talking about it!"

Besides, he shouldn't have to worry about his personal problems now. It was time to ruin the Empire's day.

* * *

 **Special thanks to BlackRoseDraco, Maximus Potter, Rebels-lover, roguemango, tmp1114, NJ 50, DeathGoddesses, ArabianLover16, skylark24, and FireBirdThePhoenix. You guys are awesome!**

 **FireBirdThePhoenix - Don't worry, I've got you! Here's a new chapter for your inner fangirl's enjoyment!**

 **Maximus Potter - Aww thank you so much! I'm still a little hesitant myself because this story's a bit different than what I'm used to, but I appreciate your support.**

 **Silver shines in moonlight - I will have a nice day, thank you! And we'll just have to see what happened to poor Ezra…**

 **Chiibe the Rebel - Yeah, Disney tends to make everything fluffy. They are constantly killing off the parents of their princesses and still expect them to be emotionally okay? Seriously? (On that note, does that make Ezra a Disney princess? XD)**

 **Ichichi05 - GROUP HUG FOR THE SAD BLUEBERRY! WE MUST PROTECT HIM!**

 **Fireysun - *Monty Python voice* You're not fooling anyone, you know!**

 **Paint the Fangirling Wolf - Oh goodness, that's a lot of soda! Here's another chapter for your sugar-crazed inner fangirl.**

 **Specter14 - I guess you'll just have to keep reading to find out! Mwahahaha!**

 **ErisEclipseNui - Thank you! :)**

 **roguemango - Thanks! (P.S. I love your username!)**

 **coraliturbe - ¡Voy a escribir rápidamente!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! It's been a while. School decided to kick it up a notch and make my life miserable for a few weeks (three speeches, four tests, seven papers of varying difficulty, group projects...), so I haven't had much time to write. Hopefully this chapter will make up for my absence!**

* * *

Creeping through a ventilation shaft on his own made Ezra feel better and worse at the same time. The exhilaration of doing something dangerous had largely drowned out his exhaustion, leaving him in a happier, energetic state. It was always exciting to face off against the might of the Empire, the fear of being caught mingling with the thrill of possible success. Because his team was relying on him to do well, his focus was almost enough to distract himself from the feeling of uneasiness welling up inside of him.

The feeling had been growing and gnawing at him ever since they had first talked about the mission, but then it had been something distant that he could brush away. Now it was much stronger and holding fast against his attempts to dispel it. Even his excuse that it was just his guilt from not talking to Kanan was seeming halfhearted at best. This had to be something else. The problem with that was he still didn't know what it was. What was he supposed to tell Kanan? He felt nervous? That could be explained away as normal jitters caused by the mission. Trying to explain such a complicated feeling to everyone would only waste time with needless questions and frustration. Maybe he could talk to Kanan about it when they were alone. That was probably the best plan for now. If he could talk to Kanan about this when they split off to find the cargo, then he might be able to figure out if his master felt the same way. If he didn't, then he would know he was being dumb.

But he couldn't act on his own plan unless he finished doing his part in the mission. He continued on through the vent, finally giving up on ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. Hopefully Kanan would have some answers.

* * *

Just sitting around and waiting for Ezra to open the service door had left Kanan way too much time alone with his thoughts. His combined sleep deprivation, worries about his padawan, and stress over the mission were giving him a pretty wicked headache. On top of all of that, the odd feeling he had vaguely registered in the Force when he had been talking to Ezra had only grown stronger as the mission commenced. It was frustrating that he couldn't quite pinpoint what was making him so on edge, but he knew that something big was coming. He needed to be on his guard.

Unfortunately, Zeb and Sabine weren't as wary as he was at the moment. Their own sleep deprived states had caused them to zone out on several occasions already, and they were now trying to keep awake by arguing with one another. While he had to admit that their argument was a little justified - Zeb shouldn't mess with Sabine's explosive toys unless he knows exactly what each of them does - Kanan noticed that their snappish whispers were steadily growing in volume. If they didn't get it together soon, they were going to be caught. "Hey!" He hissed quietly, stopping Sabine in the middle of a sarcastic retort to a snide comment from Zeb. "If you guys want to continue this in an Imperial prison cell that's fine, but if no keep it down."

Sabine stared down at her boots and muttered a quick apology while Zeb rubbed the back of his neck and offered a small abashed grin. They waited in silence after that. The level of his concern grew with each passing minute, making him somewhat regret breaking up the argument. That had provided a distraction. Now all he could do was wonder what the source of his distress was and speculate how much Ezra could feel it. It wasn't a question of if when the feeling was this strong, but with his padawan working alone for part of the mission with this unknown extra variable he was suitably stressed over the entire situation. Something important was going to happen, and it didn't seem like it was a good thing.

All three of them jumped when the service door suddenly swung open with a loud squeak to reveal Ezra. The kid winced at the sudden sound and quickly looked behind him to see if anyone had noticed. When he was satisfied that they hadn't been spotted, he gestured for them to follow him. The Specters quickly joined him and shut the door as quietly as they could behind them.

Once they were all inside, they split up. Kanan and Ezra went to search for the shipment they were looking for, and Zeb and Sabine set out to create a few distractions for the Imperials to deal with. Kanan couldn't help but smile at the happiness radiating off of Zeb and Sabine as they went to place the explosives. At least those two were having fun with this mission. He certainly wasn't, as the headache he was suffering from increased in intensity as they walked further into the building. He took one look at Ezra and confirmed that he felt the same way, if not worse. The kid looked pale and was holding his head, occasionally wincing at what Kanan could only assume was a headache of his own. He felt a twinge of anger towards whatever was causing this mysterious feeling for making his padawan suffer. Once he found out what it was, he would have to take care of it quickly.

"Kanan?"

The Jedi started guiltily, realizing that Ezra had felt his flash of anger and was now eyeing him with concern. He needed to pull himself together. "What's up?"

They were getting closer to their destination. Kanan kept an eye out for the hangar bay where the shipments were supposed to be stored while also keeping an eye on Ezra. The kid didn't look good at all; whatever this was was affecting him much more strongly than he was experiencing. He would have to stay on top of things with his padawan in this state. Something else was bothering him about the situation, but he was too focused on Ezra to think about it at that moment.

They were about even with the corridor that led to the hanger when Ezra spoke up again. "Do you know what's going on?"

"You're going to have to be a little more specific, kid," Kanan replied as he discreetly checked around the corner. There were no stormtroopers in sight. He let out a quiet sigh of relief and gestured for Ezra to follow him to the single door at the end of the hall. Ezra winced in pain once more and grabbed his head as he waited for Kanan to unlock the door.

"You know what I mean. You're trying to hide it, but I can tell it's hurting you, too."

Kanan messed with the lock a bit longer than necessary as he silently cursed himself for being an idiot. Of course Ezra would notice. Even if he had been avoiding the topic for reasons that escaped him at the moment, he wouldn't be able to hide his own pain from his padawan. He finished overriding the locks, but hesitated on opening the door for a few moments as he faced Ezra's concerned gaze. "Yes, I know what you mean. I don't know what it is, but it can't be anything good. We just need to be careful, alright?"

Kanan waited for Ezra to nod in agreement before giving him a reassuring grin and opening the door. However, no amount of being careful prepared him for the sudden spike of pain that lanced through his head when he stepped into the hangar. It also didn't prepare him for the sudden gasp of pain behind him as Ezra stumbled into his back, obviously also feeling the same stab of pain. Even though he felt better than he had through this entire mission after the feeling passed, he knew it was a false sense of relief. That just meant he had finally discovered the source of his and Ezra's distress. But what was it, and where?

The door slammed closed behind them due to an unseen force. Kanan didn't have to check to know that it was also locked. They were trapped. Well, that just meant that they would have to fight their way out. Kanan reached for his lightsaber as a low chuckle reverberated through the hangar.

"It's a pity that own ignorance to the warnings of the Force has brought an end to this game so soon. Are you that desperate to die, Jedi?"

"Who are you?" Kanan called out as he ignited his lightsaber. "Show yourself!"

A figure stepped out of the shadows at the far side of the room and greeted them with a slight bow. "Greetings, Jedi. I am the Inquisitor."


	6. Chapter 5

**The Inquisitor had finally arrived!**

 **Here are a few notes on what he's like in this story:**

 **1\. He uses his high rank as an Inquisitor to support many projects and experiments.**

 **2\. He has very little regard for whomever or whatever he experiments on. He does it all for the glory of the Empire.**

 **3\. He focuses on the production of weapons and different ways to use the Force to achieve his goals.**

 **Overall, not a very nice guy. But what do you expect from someone who is almost a Sith but not really?**

* * *

The voice, the eyes: it was all just like in his dreams. This was the being responsible for his pain and the troubles of the crew. He was the source of his nightly terror, and seeing him clearly for the first time only added fuel to his fears. The pale white skin with red lines drawn down from his eyes like tracks of blood, piercing amber eyes that promised pain and misery to anyone who crossed his path through a cool and confident gaze, and dominating demeanor made Ezra feel so small and weak. He was not prepared to fight this man and walk away unscathed, if he survived their encounter at all. The only way he might live through this was if he handed himself over to him.

Ezra shook away the thought immediately, confused by his line of thinking. How in the world had he reached that conclusion? He didn't even know who this being was. Why would his first thought be to turn himself in? Despite his confusion, he couldn't deny that he felt a strong connection to the stranger. It was like an odd pull through the Force, beckoning him to this being's side. He probably would have gone, too, if Kanan had not been with him.

His Master was tense and wary of the new threat, placing himself between the stranger and Ezra. Ordinarily the overprotectiveness of the action would have annoyed Ezra, but in this situation he welcomed it. There was something about this being that made him feel odd and detached. With Kanan somewhat blocking his view and shielding him completely from that amber gaze, he found his thoughts becoming more clear and focused. Ezra didn't understand how he was doing it, but the stranger had some sort of power over him. If he couldn't fight it on his own, he was going to have to rely on Kanan get them away safely.

The pain in his head was building back up again, but he tried to ignore it as he observed the tense situation. Kanan held his lightsaber up in a way that was more for protection than fighting, probably in an attempt to keep the inevitable conflict at a standstill while he figured out what to do. Ezra knew it was a wise course to take in most situations, but the amused smirk that twisted the stranger's face at the sight of his Master's actions filled him with dread. This man was powerful and dangerous, much more dangerous than anything they had faced before. Kanan would die if he didn't do something.

He tried to shake off that thought as well, but it wouldn't to go away. It lodged itself in his mind and adamantly refused to budge despite his efforts. He winced as the pain suddenly spiked in his head, settling in a dull throb that pulsed to the rhythm of that single thought. Kanan was going to die. He watched with a vague sense of horror as his Master moved into a defensive stance, clearly preparing to face off against the mysterious being. Kanan was going to die. The stranger's only visible response to the challenge was an upward quirk of his lips and a light chuckle that only fueled Ezra's panic. Kanan was going to die. And suddenly he was on top of Kanan in a blur of red, their lightsabers crashing together as Kanan just barely stopped the crimson blade from piercing his chest. Kanan was going to die. _Kanan was going to die!_

Ezra sank to the knees and gripped his head as the pain returned with a vengeance, watching in desperation as his Master faced off against the dark assailant. He wanted to help, he needed to help. He had to fight past whatever was going on with him and assist Kanan before it was too late. He wasn't going to see his Master fall. He wouldn't let that happen.

* * *

Kanan winced as he took a step back, fully aware of the burn wound he had already sustained despite the shortness of the battle. This Inquisitor, whoever he was, obviously had the upper hand in this fight. While Kanan movements were almost desperate and frantic as he tried to avoid blow after blow, his opponent moved easily and kept all his actions restrained, using a minimal amount of effort. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this was not going to go well for him.

All the same, he continued to fight. Even if the Inquisitor was just toying with him, and it was clear that he was, he did have a small amount of control over the situation. The assailant was so confident in his abilities that he was willing to allow Kanan to retreat and move around as much as he wanted. They were locked in with him, after all. Where could he possibly go? So Kanan used this to his advantage. If he couldn't escape, he would keep the Inquisitor's attention focused on him and away from Ezra for as long as possible.

He knew it was a ridiculous plan. The hangar they were in didn't go on forever and he could only hold out for so long in this battle. It wasn't going to do any good in the long run, but it felt like the correct thing to do. There was something about this being that felt completely _wrong_ , especially when he thought about him noticing Ezra. So as long as he could keep the Inquisitor's attention-

The thought had barely formed in his head when the Inquisitor suddenly grunted in pain. Kanan was confused for a moment before he noticed a few bright electrical sparks sizzling out from the beings back. Something that looked like the impact of the bolts from Ezra's slingshot. He looked around his opponent's shoulder, and sure enough, there was his padawan with another bolt already prepared to fire. Before he could even completely comprehend what was going on, the Inquisitor turned away from him to focus his attention on Ezra.

"Well, isn't this interesting?"

 _No._ He had failed. He should have known that Ezra wouldn't be able to simply hide while he faced off against someone who was much more skilled than he was. He was too selfless for that. Of course Ezra would try to help. But right now, that was probably the worst thing he could do, especially since he looked like he was still struggling with his own pain. Kanan needed to get Ezra to run away or create a distraction. He decided to try to cover both at the same time and called, "Ezra! Run!"

The Inquisitor predictably ignored him, but surprisingly, so did Ezra. Kanan watched with a building sense of horror as Ezra remained where he stood, even as the Inquisitor slowly approached him. He couldn't understand why Ezra wasn't doing anything. It was one thing to try to protect Kanan, but to not protect himself at all was something else entirely. There was another factor in play, and he knew it had something to do with the Inquisitor. He had to get to Ezra before the Inquisitor did whatever he was planning. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he didn't.


	7. Chapter 6

**Life uses responsibility attack! It is super effective! Now I have to go to class. I hope you all like the chapter!**

* * *

This was a strangely horrifying situation that Ezra had never experienced before. Every logical fiber of being screamed at him to move, fight back, run away, do _something_. And yet, for some reason unknown to him, he remained still under the glowing amber gaze of the Inquisitor. Even though he wasn't physically bound or imprisoned, he felt trapped by whatever unconscious decision was holding him in place. Even though it was confusing and confining, it felt oddly… right. It wasn't right in a way that was comforting or pleasant. In fact, it was far from it, but it was so familiar in a way that he had never experienced before. He reacted on instinct, compliant with some part of his mind that whispered for him to stay still, to submit to the being before him. That this was how it was supposed to be. As these thoughts overtook his mind, he deactivated his slingshot and lowered his arms to his sides, leaving himself completely unarmed.

With this strange feeling overwhelming and erasing every thought of running or fighting, he stood calmly before the approaching man. His mind felt clearer than it ever had before, the pain from earlier just a vague memory that quickly disappeared before he could even attempt to focus on it. None of his thoughts were important in this moment. The only thing that mattered was whatever the Inquisitor desired of him. Even in his empty and almost thoughtless state, he still vaguely noted the glint of excitement and something else he couldn't quite identify flashing in the intense golden eyes locked on his. If he had been thinking clearly he would have felt uneasy, if not outright scared, by what he saw, but in his current state he simply stared back at the approaching figure and watched silently as the Inquisitor stopped a few feet in front of him.

The mocking smile that the Inquisitor had worn during his brief duel with Kanan and morphed into a wide, sinister grin as he stared down at him. Now that he was closer, Ezra could make out more of the emotions playing out in the gaze of the man before him. Excitement and almost child-like glee added a wild ferocity to the intimidating gold, but that wasn't what made a small part of him try to fight back against his strange reactions. The emotion that he had failed to identify as the Inquisitor approached had suddenly become clear to him, and he didn't like it one bit. He could even feel it now, the strong feeling of possessiveness that radiated from the Inquisitor so strongly. It was like the man thought that Ezra was a long lost item, something that he owned.

However, the part of him that protested was too small and weak to do anything, and was quickly silenced and swept away as the Inquisitor spoke to him. His voice was the only thing that seemed to remain lodged in his mind. "How foolish of me to be deceived by the feeble lies of insignificant traitors," the man mused with a low chuckle. "It is by the will of the Force that their scheme has failed. Their interference did nothing but delay the inevitable."

There was movement behind the Inquisitor. Ezra registered it and analyzed the threat of the situation. Whoever was moving was behind the Inquisitor and blocked from his view, but he could hear the uneven gait of the person as they approached and the hitch in their breath every time they took a step. Injured, in pain, struggling to stay on their feet. All of this and the Inquisitor's lack of reaction led him to the conclusion that the approaching person was not a current threat. There was no need for him to act at this time. He would wait for the Inquisitor to give him an order or for the unknown person to attempt an attack. The Inquisitor watched him through the whole thought process with a knowing smirk before turning to face whoever was approaching. "It seems that gratitude is in order, Jedi. You have unwittingly returned a valuable weapon to the hands of the Empire."

"What are you talking about?" The voice of the Jedi rang out, and Ezra added new information to his list of observations. Male adult, probably mid to late 20s. He still had yet to attack, even though Ezra could now see the glow of his blue lightsaber around the Inquisitor's form.

The Inquisitor laughed at the Jedi's question. "A completely obedient soldier with powers beyond your imagination, all contained in an inconspicuous and innocent-looking child that can effortlessly gain the trust of others before destroying them. I see the boy joined your crew easily enough, and you welcomed him with open arms. Trust is such a fragile thing, isn't it?"

With those words, the Jedi appeared to find his strength and brought up his lightsaber to strike the Inquisitor, who made no move to stop him. After all, he didn't have to. Ezra quickly raised his hand and called to the Force, feeling a small surge of exhilaration as it answered him. Now was the time for him to act.

* * *

Kanan had had quite enough of the Inquisitor's smug, triumphant voice. He didn't know what he was talking about, but he knew that something was wrong with Ezra and the man before him was the cause of it. If he took him down, or at least got him away from Ezra, he might be able to try to help his padawan snap out of whatever was affecting him. He raised his lightsaber to strike and was confused when the Inquisitor didn't move to defend himself. What was he doing? Why would he-

A sudden very strong push in the Force sent him flying back into a nearby stack of crates. He cried out in pain as his injured leg impacted painfully with the ground. Luckily, there was no sound of bones breaking, so he assumed he was mostly alright. He pulled himself up from the ground and eyed the Inquisitor warily. He hadn't even seen the man move! How had he managed to Force push him without using his hands? And the strength behind the push had been immense, much stronger than anything Kanan had ever felt before. Just what was this man capable of?

However, the Inquisitor was quick to end his train of thought by moving to the side to give him a clear view of his true assailant. Ezra was still standing where Kanan had last seen him, thankfully unharmed. Kanan had been sure that the Inquisitor would simply cut him down when he saw his chance. His growing relief quickly turned to confusion and concern when he took a closer look at his padawan. Ezra's eyes, always a bright and vibrant blue that reflected the happiness and light within him, were dull, vacant, and void of all emotion. One arm was still outstretched, as if he were ready to attack him again. "Ezra! What are you doing?"

It was the Inquisitor who answered instead. "He is doing what he was trained to do," the man stated, moving to stand behind Ezra and placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. Kanan waited for Ezra to react, to pull away, to do _something_ , but he didn't even flinch at the sudden contact. Instead, he kept his empty gaze trained on Kanan as if daring him to make another move. The Inquisitor smiled as he enjoyed their tense interaction. "He is eliminating a threat to the Empire."

No, that couldn't be. This was Ezra they were talking about! The kid had fought against the Empire at every chance he got. His own parents had been taken away by Imperials, forcing him to live on his own! There was no way that he would ever willingly side with the people who had brought so much pain and suffering to his life. The Inquisitor had to be controlling him somehow, right? He tried to ignore the nagging doubts growing in his head, but he couldn't quite push away the thought that Ezra may have been lying to them all along and had planned to betray them from the beginning. He shook his head and quickly shifted his doubts to the back of his mind. Ezra had only started acting this way when he met the Inquisitor, so it had to be caused by his influence. He needed to get through to Ezra and snap him out of it. "Ezra! I don't know what he's done to you, but you need to fight it! Don't let him control you!"

Once again, it was the Inquisitor who responded with an amused chuckle. "You're far too late for that, Jedi. The boy is mine." He took a step back from Ezra and thoughtfully considered the scene for a moment. "As much as I would enjoy killing you myself, I would hate to waste a powerful resource at my disposal." A chill went down Kanan's spine as he realized what the man was planning to do. He watched in horror as the Inquisitor turned back to Ezra and ordered, "Kill him."

"Don't listen to him!" His desperate cry went unheard by his padawan. Kanan felt himself being lifted into the air. "Ezra, stop!"

The boy ignored his pleas and continued to follow the Inquisitor's command. Kanan had a moment to register that Ezra's clouded blue eyes had changed to amber before he felt the grip on him through the Force tighten and begin to crush him. He gasped in pain and frantically called out one last time. "EZRA!"

The pressure around him vanished abruptly, dropping him back to the floor in a heap. His chest heaved as his lungs tried to recuperate from being so constricted. Groaning in pain he lifted himself up to see what had happened. The Inquisitor appeared to be just as confused as he was, staring down at the small, kneeling form at his feet. The boy had silently fallen to the ground and was now clutching his head as if in immense pain. "Ezra?" Kanan rasped, unsure of what to do.

Without warning, the Force seemed to explode around Ezra. It was a wild and uncontrolled blast that was indiscriminate it it's destruction, taking out crates, Jedi, and Sith in its wake. Kanan crashed into a wall, his head smacking the solid surface before he slid to the floor.

The last thing he heard before everything went black was the sound of Ezra screaming.


	8. Chapter 7

**I am sooo sorry about not writing very fast. Luckily, the gods of winter had pity on me and gave me a closed campus day, so I finally got to work on this chapter. It's a bit longer than usual, but I wanted to include the Inquisitor's point of view.**

 **R.I.P. David Bowie and Alan Rickman, two absolutely marvelous people who will be missed.**

* * *

It took a few tries to get his body to cooperate with him, and once he finally got it to move he decided it may have been better to wait a few more minutes. Kanan groaned as he carefully stretched out his painfully sore limbs. When he finally had some control of his body, he slowly cracked his eyes open. The bright light that assaulted his eyes made him wince in pain, but he forced himself to get passed the discomfort and adjust. The blurry images swimming before him eventually came into focus, and he was able to observe the total destruction of the hangar.

The once organized stacks of crates now lay decimated with their remains scattered across the floor. Jagged edges and sharp splinters created a painful surface for anyone who tried to walk through the devastation. Dents in the walls showcased the brute force that had thrown the wreckage. A dusty cloud hung in the air, making it even harder to closely examine anything under the now flickering lights above.

While the devastation of Imperial property was apparent, Kanan began to panic as he scanned the room, unable to find his padawan in the debris. Where was Ezra? He groaned as he attempted to push himself off the ground to look for the boy, but he fell back as a round of coughing wracked his body from the dust hanging in the air. Apparently the damage inflicted wasn't limited to the cargo. He didn't know how badly he was injured, but now wasn't the time to take stock of himself, not when Ezra was somewhere out there in the rubble. He needed to get to his padawan. He had to make sure that Ezra was alright and get him as far away from this base as possible. He still wasn't quite sure what had happened, and the throbbing in his head from where he had cracked it against the wall wasn't helping to clear his thoughts, but he still knew that Ezra's strange behavior had started when they had entered the hanger. If he could get the kid away from here, they might be able to fix things or at least figure out what was going on.

He registered movement in his peripherals, feeling his panic grow as he remembered the other being in the room with them. Where was the Inquisitor? If it was him moving around, he was probably in much better shape than Kanan was. He could only hope that he could somehow stop him from getting to Ezra and give the kid some time to get away. He was determined to make sure that the Inquisitor never laid a hand on Ezra again. He knew that the doubts the Inquisitor had stirred up within him were somewhere in the back of his mind waiting to flood him with suspicions about Ezra, but for now he stubbornly refused to let them cloud his judgment. They would undoubtedly resurface later on, but the current sense of urgency was enough to keep them at bay.

He attempted to push himself to his feet once more, only to fall again when he tried to put weight on his injured leg. He winced and hissed in pain, annoyed with himself for being so useless in this situation. How was he supposed to distract the Inquisitor in this condition?

Despite his anger at his helplessness, he did notice that the moving figure in the distance had turned towards him. He still couldn't quite make out what it was, but it was now moving towards him. He both inwardly rejoiced and panicked in equal measure. One part of him was elated. His plan had worked! He had attracted the being's attention! The other part of him was screaming at his stupidity. Now what was he supposed to do? He couldn't fight nor run in his current state. If the Inquisitor attacked him now, he would be dead in seconds. Then how was he supposed to help Ezra?

His thought were violently thrown into disarray when a hand suddenly grasped his arm and shook him slightly. He had been so distracted that he hadn't kept an eye on the mysterious figure approaching him, and now they were right on top of him! He flinched and quickly whipped his head around to see who had grabbed him, prepared to face the dark and twisted visage of the Inquisitor. However, he was shocked to have his vision filled with armor that was a startlingly bright shade of pink.

He was jostled again by another shake, a little more insistent than the last. "Kanan!"

Kanan blinked as the being before him removed an all too familiar Mandalorian helmet to reveal the concerned face of Sabine. The tension that he had been unaware of in his body abruptly left him as he sighed in relief. Sabine were here, and Zeb probably wasn't that far behind. Everything was going to be fine.

Kanan coughed again as he tried to speak and waved away the concerned look that Sabine was giving him. It wasn't him that they should be worried about at the moment. He eventually found his voice again to ask his question. "Have you found Ezra?"

Sabine turned to look towards Zeb, who seemed to notice the attention and knew what they would be talking about. He stopped carefully picking his way through the rubble and pointed in the direction he was headed before shouting, "The kid's over here!"

Despite the danger of the situation, Kanan felt himself relax at the news. He and Sabine watched as the Lasat finally made it to a clearing in the mess. He carefully scooped up an unconscious Ezra and slowly made his way over to where the others were, making sure not to jostle the unresponsive boy too much.

Even through his relief, Kanan couldn't help but feel like they were getting away too easily, especially after what he had just faced. Was the Inquisitor really still buried under the remains of crates, unable to do anything to stop them? Was he just assuming that the Inquisitor hadn't woken up before he had and was waiting to strike again? Another part of him whispered a possibility that he didn't want to think about that could very likely be true: was the Inquisitor expecting Ezra to finish what he had started? He would be in the perfect position to do so, especially with Kanan injured and the rest of the crew unaware of Ezra's other nature. It would be so simple for him to take them all down quickly and efficiently. A quiet end to the rebels of Lothal to herald the end of the Rebellion itself.

" _Kanan!_ "

He forced himself from his thoughts once more and noticed Sabine's hand extended towards him. A paint-splattered glove grasped onto his dust-covered one and quickly pulled him to his feet. An equally colorful shoulder was offered to him when Sabine noticed his balance issues, and Kanan gladly leaned into the support as they began their slow trek towards the exit.

Kanan still couldn't shake the feeling that their escape was too easy, and that any second now the Inquisitor would spring out of wherever he was hiding and attack the rebels as they fled the scene. He was in no condition to continue their previous battle, so a new fight would certainly lead to Ezra being taken and him being killed-

Oh, no.

He heard Sabine grunt in surprise as he suddenly leaned more of his weight against her, but he was too busy frantically searching his belt for his comlink to care. He had no idea how long he had been out, but he was sure that it was long enough for their fearless captain to be furious at him. Even when he had finally woken up, he had been so focused on avoiding an attack from the Inquisitor to even think about the wrath of Hera. Oh, he was so dead…

Sabine seemed to realize what he was doing and was quick to reassure him. "Hey, hey, hey! Don't worry about it. We already contacted Hera and worked out where she could pick us up."

"Too late to change anything now," Zeb snorted from behind them. He had also deduced what Kanan's panic was about and knew his friend's fate was all but sealed. Contacting Hera now wouldn't do anything if she was already pissed. The best option was to go to her and let her see the injuries before trying to explain anything. Then maybe, _maybe_ , she would let him off the hook. Until then, Kanan was screwed.

With that happy thought on all of their minds, they made their way out of the thoroughly destroyed Imperial complex to meet up with Hera and make a quick getaway. Usually, Kanan would take a minute to appreciate Sabine's work since she took so much pride in it, but she seemed to understand that his mind was elsewhere. Specifically, it was on his leg. The Inquisitor had managed to strike it a few times during the fight, and he was just now noticing several deep scratches that must have come from the debris of Ezra's… breakdown or whatever it had been. They hurt like hell and he would need to look at them as soon as he could get to the medbay. Then there was Ezra.

The kid hadn't woken up in the time it had taken them to leave the hanger and get across the base to the designated meeting point. He hung limply in Zeb's arms, completely oblivious to the world around him. While it was an improvement from him attacking them, Kanan was worried about what would happen when he woke up. _If he woke up._ While he hated to think so negatively about the situation, he had no clue as to what the Inquisitor had done to Ezra to cause all of this. If he had messed with his head and Ezra couldn't come back from it…

But Ezra was strong. He would be able to wake up eventually, Kanan told himself. The question was, would Ezra be back to normal when he came to? Would he even remember what he had done? Every question he added to the mix only increased his confusion and showed how much he really didn't know.

There was only one question on his mind as the _Ghost_ touched down just long enough for them to board and took off into the stars, silhouetted by the burning remains of the Imperial base behind them: what the hell was going on?

* * *

Surrounded by still smoldering wreckage, the Inquisitor stood imposingly over a young officer who was reading off the damage report. The man was quite obviously terrified as he gave his report, aware that it could be the last thing he ever did. However, the Inquisitor was only half listening to what the officer had to say, intent on his own thoughts. After all, his discovery held much more significance than a petty list of dead stormtroopers and destroyed property.

The boy lived.

This information was shocking only due to his own error. He should have known not to believe a word from the traitors who had spirited the boy away right under his nose and hidden him for so long. He had assumed that a pair of simple family doctors would not be able to hide information from him after the torture they had endured. He had been wrong to underestimate their strength, but none of that mattered now. Their mysterious, misguided affection for the boy could no longer keep him from returning to where he belonged.

The… reaction to his orders had also been a shock. While it did prove that the boy still retained his strong connection to the force, it also meant that something had changed. It could have simply been a fluke. The boy had been away for a long time, after all. Perhaps he just needed time to readjust to his proper role.

Then again, the doctors could have somehow tampered with him. The very thought filled him with rage. How dare they meddle with his weapon that he had spent years honing and perfecting. How _dare_ they manipulate his creation and twist his work in such a way!

If only he hadn't killed them so quickly. He would have made them watch as he reclaimed the boy and returned him to perfection. He would have forced them to behold the beautiful destruction the boy would bring and bask in their pain as the boy snuffed out the small light of hope that the Rebellion gave to the galaxy. Then, after he was sure that their suffering had reached its peak, he would have had the boy they loved so much kill them, very slowly and painfully while they screamed to him for mercy. Their last thoughts before their deaths would have been the knowledge of their failure and the horror that they had helped unleash upon the galaxy.

Of course, that would only have happened if the doctors had in fact somehow tampered with the boy while they had him in their grasp. As it was, he had too little data on the subject. To understand what had happened, he would need to examine the boy himself. Unfortunately, that was not currently a possibility. He had watched the rebel ship take off, taking the boy with it as it jumped into hyperspace and out of his reach. He would have to wait to find the answers to this mystery.

That wouldn't be a problem. He had been without the boy for several years already, and he was a patient man. In time, he would have his answers and his weapon, and the meddlesome rebels would be taken care of. They could not hold onto his property forever. He would soon take back what was his.

He dropped the facade of listening to the damage report and brushed past the officer as he headed for his ship. He had his own reports to make.

His master would want to know of his discovery.


	9. Flashback Part 1: He's Just A Boy

**Who wants some backstory? I do!**

* * *

"I can't believe that you agreed to this! What were you thinking, Ephraim?"

Many who had encountered her would agree that Mira Bridger was a kind and loving woman with boundless amounts of compassion and patience. While her husband was quick to agree with most of those observations, he was aware that she, like anyone else, had limits. Ever since their marriage several years ago, he had both intentionally and unintentionally stumbled upon certain things that had severely tested those limits. He had been on the receiving end of her fury more times than he would care to say. Despite this experience, or perhaps because of it, he flinched under his wife's cold gaze and harsh tone. However, as intimidating as she was, he needed to stand his ground and explain his reasoning.

"I was thinking of your safety, Mira," he stated as calmly as he could. He fought back the urge to match her loud, angry tone, but realized that it would be the fastest way to lose the argument. He needed to show her that he had actually calmly considered his actions. He knew that out of context his decision made absolutely no sense, and Mira was quick to point out the reasons why.

She stared at him with her icy eyes, her gaze shifting from raw fury to a mix of disgust and condescending. "My safety," she repeated quietly, as if trying to confirm that that was what he had said. Realizing that it had indeed been his argument, she was utterly perplexed. Could he really not see how flawed his logic was? "We were already as safe as we could ever be in this terrifying disaster of a galaxy. We were just a pair of doctors who were important enough to locals to keep in business and unimportant enough to the Empire to go unnoticed. We were as free as we could possibly be, until you agreed to help with this Imperial program."

Ephraim decided that he preferred to have Mira scream at him compared to the quiet, steely voice that she was now using to address him. It was cold, logical, and dangerous, something that he could never hope to argue with and get away unscathed. He could clearly read the challenge in her eyes as she stared at him through narrowed eyes, daring him to try and refute the truth of her statements. He knew she was right, and how could she not be?

They had spent the past few years actively trying to fly under the Empire's radar, neither fully supporting the regime nor actively fighting against it. They carefully maintained the image of simple family doctors active in their small community, the type of people who weren't exactly loyal but were quiet enough to not draw a second glance. Their practice was of outstanding quality despite its small size. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that they were the best clinic in the region. After spending so much time building a life for themselves and taking every precaution, how could Ephraim simply throw away everything they had worked for by agreeing to work for the Empire?

While he could see her logic and understood her anger at his decision, he knew there was more to their current predicament than she realized. "I didn't want this to happen, Mira. I would never have chosen this path for us if I had any other options. I was approached by an Imperial officer when I was in the market." He could feel his anger starting to fade, allowing the emotions that it suppressed threatening to overwhelm him. He desperately grabbed his wife's arms and felt his controlled mask slip to reveal his fear and helplessness. "They came to me. You know that I would never seek out the attention of the Empire, not in a million years."

Mira was surprised by the sudden change in her husband's demeanor. He had been so calm and collected up to this point, which had truly made her believe that he didn't understand the implications of his actions. Now that she heard more of his story and saw the fear in his eyes, she began to second guess herself. She felt her own icy glare melting to give way for her own fear. "Well... Even if they sought you out, you could have... I don't know, done something!"

"What, deny them?" Ephirim laughed bitterly at the idea. "The market was full of innocent bystanders that could have been put in harms way if I didn't agree. Besides, they knew what I looked like, where we live, even when we run errands every day. If I had refused their offer and left, they could have tracked us down in seconds."

The unspoken truth hung in the air between them, adding an unfathomable weight to the sinking feeling they both felt as they faced the facts. They had somehow made it onto the Empire's radar and there was no way to avoid the inevitable. They were trapped and, unless they could somehow pull off a miracle, dead.

Ephirim sank down into the chair next to his wife and held his face in his hands. He could still clearly see the events of earlier playing out every time he closed his eyes. He remembered wandering from stall to stall, collecting the various food items that Mira had written down for him before he left. He remembered seeing a small group of stormtroopers ahead of him and unconsciously turning away from them to head the other direction only to run right into two Imperial officers. They had spoken in the haughty, commanding tones that one came to expect from officers that knew they controlled everything. Their "offer", if it could be called that when there was no way that he could refuse if he valued his life, had been laced with hints of certain details of his life. Hints that included who his regular patients were and where they lived and when Mira usually went out alone. Subtle reminders that he could lose everything in a matter of minutes if he did not cooperate. What else could he have done but say yes?

"What are we going to do?" The whisper was so quiet that Ephraim thought he had imagined it at first. However, when he opened his eyes again he found Mira desperately staring at him, her eyes searching for an answer. She was looking to him for a solution, but he was just as lost as she was. What could they do? They had only just been approached by the Empire, but they were already completely ensnared in their web. There was no way for them to get out of this that he could see.

Sighing, he shook his head and struggled to return to the stoic calmness he had been attempting to maintain before. "I don't know. We'll just have to go along with it for now. We'll see where it takes us. Who knows?" He let out a short laugh and managed to form the ghost of a smile. "Perhaps something good will come of it."

Mira snorted and smiled lightly at Ephraim's attempt to lighten the mood. She understood that he was just putting on a brave face, but she was grateful that he was holding it together for her sake. Seeing him appear to be confident gave her the strength to find her own. Maybe he was right. There was always the possibility that fate hadn't dealt them an entirely bad hand. There could be a reason that they had been chosen for this job.

One thing was for certain: the Empire was not going to take Ephraim and Mira Bridger's hope. They may have effectively taken away their options and their future, but they would never be able to stomp out the small, flickering flame of their hope for as long as they lived.

* * *

Mira despised both of the Imperial officers who had come to collect them from the local hanger to escort them to their location. They both exuded a strong vibe of pompous arrogance that set her teeth on edge, and every time Ephraim had spoken to them they had responded with looks filled with disdain and callousness. The word seemed even more fitting when the younger of the two officers was introduced as Agent Kallus. She made sure to keep her icy glare focused on him as he explained their assignment. He was making a valiant effort to seem unaffected by her, but stronger men than him had coward under the wrath of Mira Bridger. He kept his attention focused on Ephraim as he spoke, clearly not wanting to maintain eye contact with her.

Agent Kallus was busy explaining the content of a datapad that he had handed to her husband while he attempted to ignore her. "These are the subjects that you will be responsible for while you are involved with this program. They may be brought to you in a… variety of conditions. It is your job to keep them as healthy as possible in order for them to continue with the program."

Glancing over the datapad as Ephraim flipped through the files on the subjects, she felt her concern and anger grow as she noticed an odd detail. "You seem to be missing a few files," she commented in the forcibly cheerful tone she had adopted throughout the entire time that they had spent with the officers. "Some of the numbers have been skipped over."

Kallus reluctantly looked over at her and cleared his throat in discomfort. "Ah, yes. Unfortunately, some subjects are no longer… involved."

She was sorely tempted to continue to question him until he cracked under the pressure and admitted to the true reason why the subjects were no longer "involved," but a pleading look from Ephraim was enough to calm her for a moment. She knew she was straining the peace between them and the officers, but this whole situation made her feel so helpless. If she couldn't fight against the powers that lorded over her, she was afraid that she would simply fall into despair. But that wasn't an option here; she would go down swinging. She could tone it down a notch, but she would not stop fighting.

Sighing, Mira nodded as if content with the answer and pretended not to notice the obvious slump of relief in Kallus's shoulders. Instead, she continued to read through the files as her husband swiped through them. It was all pretty standard information: species, height, weight, any notable prior health issues, and any medical notes that had been accumulated for them up to this point. There were no photos, so Mira was left to imagine what each individual looked like until she could actually meet them herself. She could hear Ephraim humming thoughtfully as he read through each profile, scrolling fairly quickly until he reached the last file.

This one was different than the others. At first, Mira thought that the profile had somehow been formatted wrong, and the information was printed further down or on another page. However, an attempt to scroll any further quickly disproved that theory. A glance at Ephraim confirmed that he was just as confused as she was. What were they supposed to do with a subject who had no information?

Mira cleared her throat to get the attention of the officers once again. "Subject… EZ-1006 seems to be missing their information. Is there any way to retrieve it?"

She hadn't really been trying to make Kallus any more uncomfortable, but her question accomplished that fairly spectacularly. She watched as his face went from mildly uncomfortable to nervous and finally settled on something close to fear. His reaction alone made her feelings of concern grow considerably. It took quite a bit to spook an Imperial, and Kallus seemed pretty shaken. He seemed to realize that he had displayed too much emotion and tried to cover it up as quickly as possible, searching desperately for an explanation to cover his nerves. "That's… Subject 6 is-"

"EZ-1006 is a special case. We can give you no further information at this time," stated the other officer, effectively cutting off Kallus' rambling. While it was entertaining to see the young officer turn a flustered shade of red, the explanation was not nearly enough to satisfy Mira. What were they supposed to do for a patient that they knew nothing about? She opened her mouth to demand more information, but she halted in her protest when she made eye contact with the older officer. There was a clear warning within them: don't push this. There was no need to state what would happen if she ignored the warning.

Instead, she sighed and closed her mouth, opting to lean closer to her husband as he continued to look over the datapad. She would hold her tongue and choose her battles. After all, it wasn't worth fighting for information now if she would eventually get to meet the patient in person. The rest of the journey was spent in an uncomfortable silence as they flew towards their unknown destination.

* * *

It had only been a few weeks, and Mira was surprised that her tongue was still attached after all the times she had bitten it to keep from lashing out at the officers who delivered the patients to the medical wing. She could tell that Ephraim felt the same way as she listened to him curse under his breath while documenting their current patient's numerous injuries. While she wasn't writing them down herself, the mental list she had started was quite extensive. A broken leg, possible skull fracture, two broken ribs, the mangled remains of what had most likely been an arm, a completely missing hand…

The list kept going, but her concentration was broken by a light tap on her shoulder. She glanced to her right to see a small woman standing next to her, also carefully observing the patient. The Empire has supplied them with almost anything they could have asked for, including an assistant. Emi, a human female with a tiny stature, bright green eyes, and a quiet, docile demeanor, had apparently been a part of the previous medical team. She had been invaluable in helping the Bridgers in their attempts to save the patients by offering up her skills and her past knowledge. At first, Mira had been confused as to why the Imperials would leave an assistant alive after they had killed the rest of the team, but it hadn't taken long to reveal the wisdom behind the decision. Without someone who knew what was going on, it would have taken them much longer to acclimate to their working environment and would have likely ended in them making many costly mistakes that could set back the program. Instead, they had someone who knew when to stop them from erroneously ignoring protocol.

Mira was grateful for the assistance and guidance, but there were times that she wished that there wasn't someone there who knew the proper procedure to stop them or constantly keep track of what they were doing. She could tell that this was going to be one of those times as she watched Emi take stock of the subject with a grim frown set on her face. She could feel her heart sinking as the smaller woman slowly shook her head and began heading for the back of the medical bay.

Ephraim noticed the movement as well and stopped listing the damage, frantically calling after the woman. "Emi, wait! I know it's a lot, but there are still procedures that we can use to heal some of his major injuries. Can't we just-"

"No," Emi replied curtly, returning to the operating table and looking at the stricken faces of the Bridgers with something close to pity. She proceeded to prepare the syringe that she had brought back with her, focusing intently on the task at hand and ignoring any form of protest that they may have tried to use.

At this point, all Mira and Ephraim could do was sadly step back from the operating table and wait for Emi to finish, all the while silently seething at the cruelty of the program. They had no idea of what caused so many injuries to the subjects that they treated every day, but they always worked to make sure that each being that was brought to them lived to see another day. It would go against everything they stood for just to let a patient die when they had the chance to save them. However, that was exactly what the Empire expected them to do. If it was more cost effective to simply end a subject's life than it was to attempt several time-consuming medical procedures, then they had to abandon their efforts and let Emi inject the subjects with poison.

The first time it had happened, stormtroopers had had to be called in to restrain the Bridgers after Emi explained what had to be done. They couldn't believe that even the Empire would decide to place a price on a being's life and deem it more cost effective to simply murder a helpless patient. However, after seeing the same thing happen over and over in such a short stretch of time, Mira wondered why she had expected anything else.

Even after their first poisoned subject had been removed from the medical bay, most likely to be disposed of somewhere, Mira had furiously shouted at Emi for her actions. How could she possibly go along with something so horrible? Why did she not fight to save the patient's life? She couldn't understand how anyone could simply accept such a terrible procedure and perform it so often without any qualms. Even though he wasn't yelling, Mira could tell Ephraim was just as angry. He had stood silently behind her while she yelled, providing a stern and strong form of backup to her rage.

Emi had faced it all stoically and waited until the last of Mira's shouts had finished echoing off of the walls. It had been a silent showdown, neither party willing to back down as they stared at one another through an invisible divide. Mira was surprised at the silent fight that Emi was putting up. From what she had seen, the small assistant tended to immediately give in whenever the Imperial officers demanded something of her. Why was she being so stubborn against them? Shouldn't they, as medical professionals charged with protecting other's lives, be fighting on the same side?

A defeated sigh broke the silence as Emi ran a hand through her short, blonde hair. "I wish I still had the spirit to fight like you do," Emi began quietly, "but if you stay here long enough you'll see that you can't defy orders outright forever. You have every right to be angry with me, but believe me when I say that I'm doing this for the sake of the subjects."

Mira couldn't believe what she was hearing, and Ephraim let out a short laugh in disbelief. "How can you say that it's for their sake if you would murder them before even attempting to treat them? That doesn't make any sense."

"You've seen the state of them when they are brought here," Emi shot back, looking tired but determined to get her point across. "You have seen the pain and suffering that they go through. If you heal them and send them back to the people who inflicted the injuries in the first place, are you really helping them at all?"

The Bridgers had no response to this statement, so Emi pressed on in the same quiet tone. "I know you don't think that I'm fighting against the Empire by going along with it, but the way I see it, it is the most effective way to fight them. I'm limited by their power, but if I can rescue any of the suffering beings that are brought to me, I'll do it in a heartbeat. I may be killing them, but I'm also saving them."

The logic had seemed so backwards when she had first heard it, but after all Mira had seen she could now find some sense in it. Still, it felt so wrong every time she and Ephraim stepped away from a patient to let Emi take care of them. The poison was fast, but it still took time to take effect. That left time for Mira to second guess their actions every single time. She would look around at all the medical equipment they had, all the resources at their disposal, and wonder why they had resorted to this when there were so many things they could have tried. Why were they just sitting here waiting for a patient to die when they could do so much more to help them?

However, once the stormtroopers came to take the body away, she would remind herself that they were doing what they had to do. As much as she hated it, she had come to understand that what Emi said was true. Sending back a living subject would only cause them more pain and suffering. If she could prevent that by any means necessary, she would.

So there they sat, waiting for the stormtroopers that would come to take away the lifeless body that was still on the operating table. The three of them were silent, listening to the quiet tapping noise as Ephraim updated the subject's medical records and status. Suddenly, the doors to the medical bay hissed open, revealing the two stormtroopers they had been waiting for. As they entered, Mira was surprised to also see an Imperial officer with them. That was different. Usually, the stormtroopers came by themselves and left quickly after confirming the time of death with them. It was the young one that had been with them when they had first arrived, Agent Kallus. Maybe he was here to check up on them?

His appearance had caused Emi to noticeably tense up, but she kept her voice calm and level as she spoke. "What brings you here, officer? Did you need something?"

Mira silently wondered if the man had ever looked remotely confident in his entire life. Just as the last time she had seen him, he seemed quite nervous, trying and failing to keep up the dignified persona that most other officer seemed to portray. However, he was getting better at hiding his fear. She wouldn't have known that he was scared of something if she hadn't focused on his eyes just in time to see a slight spark of fear at the question. There was no way that he would be afraid of a small group of doctors, so what was he so frightened of?

Kallus cleared his throat quickly handed a new datapad to Emi. "I was sent to inform you that Subject 6 will be arriving for an inspection shortly."

Emi froze, abandoning the quick scroll she had done through the datapad to skim the information it contained. "I thought he wasn't due for one until next week."

"It's a new procedure," Kallus informed her. Mira could hear a small squelching sound as he tightened his gloved hands behind his back, now the only clue to his agitation. Maybe he was getting better at feigning confidence. "All the details are in the files I just gave you. Read through them and make you preparations."

There was an awkward silence in the air after Kallus finished speaking, neither party really knowing what to say after that. After a moment, Kallus abruptly turned and left, followed by the two stormtroopers now weighed down by the body of the recently deceased subject.

As soon as they left, the Bridgers turned their attention to Emi. They hadn't known her long, but they had never seen her act like this. She was usually calm and collected around the Imperials, maintaining a cool, professional persona and quietly accepting anything they said without any show of emotion. Now, Mira could see a slight tremble in her hands as she carefully read through the files that Kallus had handed to her. She had turned to face away from them, but the stiffness in her body betrayed her unease.

Ephraim eventually broke the tense silence. "Emi, what's going on? Who is Subject 6?"

Emi flinched at the words but kept her back to the concerned and confused couple, continuing to read through the files. "Did you get information on the subjects when you first arrived?"

"Yes."  
"Did they give you anything on a subject named EZ-1006?"

The name was familiar, but it took Mira a moment to place it. That was the file that had no information on it, the one that they had questioned the officers about and had been denied answers. She shook her head. "No, they didn't."

Her reply got Emi to stop scrolling through the files and turn to them with a knowing mutter of, "Of course they didn't." She seemed to deliberate for a moment on what to say before sighing and running her hand through her hair, a movement that told the Bridgers that she was agitated. "I guess I'll have to start from the beginning. You probably noticed that his identification number is different from the others."

They both nodded in agreement. Mira remembered thinking that it was odd that the rest of the numbers started in the 2000s and went up from there. Why would only one subject have a lower number?

"EZ-1006, or Subject 6, is from the original project that this base was built for. I don't know what the purpose was, but it was a huge undertaking and had a lot of attention from some of the more prominent figures of the Empire. Darth Vader even visited once."

Just hearing the name was enough to strike fear into the Bridgers. They had both heard the name. It had been accompanied with stories of destruction and bloodshed that left a clear warning to those who were even thinking about opposing the might of the Empire. If Darth Vader was involved, then this was much bigger and much more dangerous than they had imagined.

"I've been told that there used to be many more subjects involved with it, but he's the only one left. When I first arrived, there were two others with him. QR-1019 and CP-1025 came in often for inspections and for treatment of their wounds. Subject 6 came just as often for inspections, but he rarely had any injuries that needed our attention. I conducted some of the basic examinations, and sometimes I would try to get him to talk to me. He never answered, but I continued talking to him anyway. I think that might be why…"

Emi trailed off, lost in thought. When she didn't continue, Ephraim gently prompted her to continue. "What happened to the others?"

Emi shook off whatever she had been thinking about and continued with her story. "They stopped showing up for inspections very suddenly. There was no warning, and we got no information from any of the officers or stormtroopers. All we knew is that around the time they stopped coming, Subject 6 was seriously injured and brought in by the head of the program himself. We treated his wounds and he quickly made a full recovery. I was one of the last people to see him before he was returned to the program, performing a final inspection before we could officially release him. I talked to him as usual, not really expecting any reply. As I was finishing up I asked him what had happened. I had my back turned as I put away supplies, but I heard him respond."

"What did he say?" Mira asked.

"He said," Emi replied quietly, "that he had killed them."

"What?"

Emi nodded in confirmation. "I was confused at first because I didn't know who he was talking about, but after the other two stopped showing up for inspections I knew."

Mira and Ephraim sat in a shocked silence, absorbing the information that they had been given. After a while, Mira spoke up again. "He killed his fellow subjects?"

"Yes. He's also the reason that the former medical team is no longer here."

"He killed them, too?"

Emi ran her hand through her hair again and seemed reluctant to continue, but she kept talking anyway. "Apparently the head doctor was taking bribes from a higher official in the government who wanted Subject 6 smuggled out of the base to them. However his plans were found out, and the head of the program was furious. He suddenly returned to the medical bay one day with Subject 6. The doctor attempted to make excuses and explain himself, the the director ignored him and ordered Subject 6 to eliminate everyone in the room."

The Bridgers silently stared at Emi as they realized what she was saying. "You saw the whole team murdered right in front of you," Mira stated bluntly, not needing a sign of confirmation to know it was true.

"How did you get away alive?" Ephraim questioned.

Emi shook her head and looked away. "I don't know. There was so much destruction and bodies were everywhere… I saw him moving towards me, and…"

"And what?"

"He hesitated. Just for a moment, when our eyes met, he stopped. It was so quick that I almost missed it, but right afterwards the director ordered him to stop. He seemed to realize that he would need someone who knew what was going on to help start over, so he let me live. That's why I'm here helping you."

The three of them stared at each other in silence, the weight of the story hanging in the air. Mira suddenly realized something and asked quietly, "Is this your first time seeing him after what happened?"

Emi finished reading over the datapad and handed it to Ephraim for him to look at before answering. "Yes, it is."

Ephraim looked up from scrolling through the information in concern. "Then we can handle the examination. You don't have to-"

"No, I want to be here," Emi interrupted. "I need to be here for him."

"Why do you want to see him? He killed your entire team! If you're worried about us not being able to handle the examination, we'll be fine."

"It's not that. I still need to find a way to save him."

"To… save him?" Mira asked in confusion. "You don't mean you want to-"

"No! Not like the others. I mean I want to get him away from here."

The statement was met with a shocked silence. Mira and Ephraim looked at one another, clearly thinking the same thing: How could Emi want to help Subject 6 escape after watching him slaughter her entire team? If he had already done all that, wasn't he passed saving?

Emi sighed and began to set out equipment for the examination. "You'll understand soon enough."

* * *

The preparations for the inspection were completed fairly quickly, which left them nothing else to do but wait. Kallus had not given them a specific time, so they had no idea of when Subject 6 would be arriving.

Mira spent the time lost in thought. Despite what she had seen, Emi still seemed determined to help Subject 6 in any way she could. She didn't even seem to blame him for the deaths of her comrades; she seemed to place the blame mostly on the mysterious head of the program more than anyone else. Why would she do that? If a being had committed such horrible acts, why would anyone want to help them? There was obviously something that Emi hadn't told them. Something important.

She jumped when she heard the door hiss open and turned quickly to see who had entered. She heard Emi and Ephraim turn as well, but she was too focused on the being before her to care.

He had entered alone, which surprised her. She had expected such an important subject to be accompanied by stormtroopers or officers, but it seemed that he was trusted enough to come by himself. The black Imperial uniform he wore was a stark contrast to the bright, sterilized white of the medical bay, making him impossible to ignore. Not that Mira would have been able to ignore him even if he was wearing anything else. Apparently oblivious to their stares, he walked over to the table where the equipment for the inspection was placed, dark hair swinging with each step and reflecting a bluish hue under the bright lights. He hoisted himself up onto the table and stared back at Mira with vacant blue eyes, waiting for them to get started.

However, Mira couldn't get herself to move. She could only stare at the way his legs dangled over the edge of the table with no hope of reaching the ground, swinging ever so slightly. She couldn't ignore how small he was, smaller than Emi and dangerously thin. She couldn't look away from the young, much too young, face that was so devoid of life.

Emi had said that they would understand her reasons, and now they did.

EZ-1006 was a child.

* * *

 **Bleh. So many words.**


	10. Chapter 8

**I didn't realize how hard it would be to get back into the swing of things after that long interlude. Hopefully this still works out!**

* * *

If Kanan had to chose the one thing that he hated the most about the medbay, it would have to be the waiting. The silence also bothered him when he was alone, but that could be easily fixed by asking someone else to join him. As long as the Ghost was in good order and they weren't in a firefight, someone was usually available to start up a conversation. If no one was around, he could leave the med bay and find something to do or seek the others out.

However, no matter what he did or who he talked to, he couldn't ignore the nagging, uncomfortable feeling that followed him as long as any of his crew mates lay injured or unconscious while he was free to do as he pleased. Even when he did leave the med bay to go do something, he would soon find himself wandering back to sit with them. He was unable to leave them alone for long. It had to do with guilt, even if he knew that whatever happened wasn't his fault. No amount of reassuring from the crew would ever be able to rid him of those feelings. To atone for his supposed guilt, he would wait with bated breath until recovery was assured. That was all he could do.

He tried to convince himself that this was why he had remained at Ezra's side ever since they had made their getaway from the base, long after he had tended to his own wounds. He refused to take his eyes off of the unmoving boy because he was worried about his condition. He was so tense because of the stress and guilt. He would not let the other in to see him and kept them away from the med bay because he wasn't ready to take Hera's berating for both not contacting her and taking responsibility for something out of his control.

While most of his reasoning was true, especially about Hera, he knew that there was another purpose for his actions. The others still didn't know much about what had happened other than that it had been a set-up and that Kanan and Ezra had been attacked. He had yet to tell them anything about what Ezra had done. He still wasn't sure about what had transpired himself, but he did know this: Ezra had been strong, dangerous, and completely under the Inquisitor's control. He didn't know what the Inquisitor had done or how he had done it, and he also didn't know how long it would last. Would Ezra wake up as his normal self, or would he try to obey the last order the Inquisitor had given him?

Since he didn't know the answer to his own questions, he had decided to do the only thing he could: place himself between Ezra and the rest of the crew. If his padawan was still under the Inquisitor's control, he wouldn't let any harm come to the others. He alone had been the original target. Hopefully, if it came to it, Ezra would simply attack him and let the others be.

He knew that Ezra would most likely have no problem hurting him in his controlled state, but would he be able to fight Ezra if he had to? Was he strong enough to even attempt to face him? From what he had seen, he could tell that Ezra's connection to the Force was amazingly strong. It was very likely that he wouldn't stand a chance. How long would he be able to hold out? Did that even matter if he couldn't force himself to fight against his padawan? No, it didn't. He knew it would be nearly impossible for him to raise a weapon against Ezra, even in was a flaw in his plan, as with every plan he had ever made. After all, he wasn't perfect. How could he predict every single little thing that could possibly happen during an op? However, this flaw had less to do with surprising outside variables and more to do with himself. He had no idea if he would be able to face off against Ezra. Skills aside, because he knew he was no match for the power that Ezra had demonstrated earlier, could he really make himself fight a child that he had lived with, trained with, and had come to consider as family?

He didn't know, and he hoped that he would never have to find out. He kept telling himself that Ezra would be fine when he woke up and he shouldn't even have to consider such things. So he sat in silence, condemning himself to his internal struggle as he waited for his unconscious padawan to wake up.

He probably would have stayed like that for hours if the door hadn't suddenly hissed open behind him. He was surprised that anyone had come; he had hoped everyone would be too busy evading Imperials to check on them. He was even more surprised and a bit fearful when he turned to behold the raging form of Hera Syndulla. Maybe he wouldn't have to worry about facing Ezra after all. Hera was going to kill him right here and now.

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, allowing the tension in the air to build to the breaking point before Kanan spoke up. Maybe if he tried to defend himself first and explain his actions she would let him live. "Hera-"

"Where were you?!" Hera exploded, making Kanan nervously glance at his padawan. Luckily, the kid was still too far gone to hear them. "The last thing I hear from you is that you're heading toward the hangar, and then nothing! Not even a distress signal! I had to wait until Zeb and Sabine went to find you, and when they report back they say they found the hangar mostly destroyed. What am I supposed to think, especially when they start searching through the rubble and can't find you? What happened?!"

Finishing her rant, she leaned against the door frame and crossed her arms, clearly awaiting his explanation. She knew she was just covering it with her anger, but she had been more scared than she wanted to admit when Sabine had first reported the wreckage of the hangar where Kanan and Ezra had gone. She had even felt her heart stop for a moment when Sabine had eventually stated that she and Zeb couldn't find any traces of their crew mates. Now that they had been found alive and safely returned, she felt that she had every right to yell at Kanan for not contacting her. How could he leave her hanging like that? She needed answers, and she needed them _now_.

Kanan held up his hands in a placating gesture and tried to remain calm as he explained. "I'm sorry, it was my fault. I could sense that something was wrong, and I think Ezra could feel it, too, but I ignored it and kept going. We walked straight into a trap."

"A trap?" Hera questioned, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"It was a setup from the start," Kanan continued. "The info about the Tarkin and the Jedi artifacts was a ruse to lure out hiding Jedi. When we got there we were confronted by a man who called himself the Inquisitor."

"What happened?"

Kanan winced and subconsciously rubbed his injured leg. "I tried to fight him, but he was clearly out of my league. He toyed with me the entire time. Then he did something to Ezra."

They both looked over at the unconscious boy. Kanan was still worried about what would happen when the kid woke up, but right now he looked almost peaceful. It was hard to compare the kid before him to the one who had caused so much devastation to the Imperial base.

"I don't know what he did or how he did it, but he somehow controlled Ezra and made him attack me. I tried to get through to him, but he just ignored me and followed the Inquisitor's orders until..."

"Until what?" Hera prodded gently, eyes wide with concern.

Kanan shook his head and glanced back at his padawan before continuing. "I'm not sure. Something went wrong, and Ezra kind of... exploded? No, that's not right. It was more like the Force exploded out of him. That's why the hangar was destroyed when Zeb and Sabine came looking for us."

He couldn't get the image of Ezra's blank, emotionless expression out of his head, nor could he forget the anguished, pained screams that had accompanied the sudden surge in the Force. It all seemed so unreal. He had never encountered anything like this before, and he didn't know what to do. Had it just been a one time thing, or were the Inquisitor's words actually true? Was Ezra really going to betray them?

Hera was busy trying to make plans around the new information she had received. "I have never heard of the Inquisitor, but if we ever come across him again we need to keep him and Ezra separated and-"

"I don't think that will do much good," Kanan said quietly.

Stopping mid-sentence, Hera turned to him and stared at him in shock. "Why not?"

"When I first tried to get through to Ezra, the Inquisitor said something about Ezra only doing what he was trained to do. What if he's been lying to us this whole time? What if he really is an Imperial spy or weapon that they sent to destroy us?"

Hera couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Kanan Jarrus," she stated as calmly as she possibly could, feeling her temper rising once more. "You really think that the kid who has been fighting alongside us for so long _against_ the Empire, the boy who is your padawan, would be a spy? All based on the word of some crazy Imperial who was trying to kill you? How could you have such little faith in Ezra?!"

"It's not about faith," Kanan shot back. "It's about facts! Ezra attacked me-"

"And probably did it against his will! You want facts? I'll give you one. That boy would not hurt any one of us if he could possibly help it."

They glared at each other in silence, neither one ready to back down or admit defeat. Even though he was being stubborn, Kanan knew that Hera was right. How could he have let himself be convinced by the Inquisitor that Ezra would try to harm them on his own?

He was just about to cave in and concede victory to Hera when a quiet groan focused both of their attention on Ezra. He had somehow managed to sit himself up without either of them noticing and was clutching his head while wincing in pain. Kanan still didn't know what exactly had happened to him, but whatever had gone on in his head had seemed to leave him with a wicked headache. He still needed to ask Ezra about any other injuries he may have missed during his initial inspection, but for the moment he was just happy to see the kid was awake. Not only that, but the eyes that turned to look at him were once again had the bright and cheerful shine that they usually held, albeit a bit guarded. That last observation suddenly made him feel nervous. How much of their conversation had Ezra heard?

Hera was immediately at his side checking to see how he was feeling. She looked him over for physical injuries again, making sure to keep her gaze focused on him and away from Kanan. Kanan realized that he had never told her that he agreed with her side of the argument, leaving her to assume that he still saw Ezra as a threat. How could he explain that to her now that Ezra was listening?

He figured the best way to do it was to treat Ezra as normally as he could. He joined Hera at Ezra's side, gently placing a hand on his shoulder as she continued her examination. "How're you doing, kid?"

Ezra shrugged and tensed up under the slight touch, eyes focused on the wall next to him. "Okay, I guess."

Hera finished her examination and gave him a reassuring smile. "You seem to be in pretty good shape. You do have quite a few cuts and bruises, but those should heal up quickly. Is there anything else bothering you?"

"No, it's fine," Ezra whispered, even as he winced again and rubbed his head.

 _Stubborn_ , Kanan thought fondly. Ezra had always insisted he was fine whenever he was sick or injured, leaving it to the rest of the crew to figure out what was wrong and drag him to the med bay to fix it. It was refreshing to see him do something so normal after what had happened. However, none of this was normal, so they couldn't treat this injury like they did the others. Usually they would give him some meds for the head pain and leave him to sleep it off, but he figured this time he would make a few changes to the routine. It could be just a headache, but it could be something more. Kanan wanted to make sure that his padawan was truly alright. "Why don't you get some rest," he suggested gently. "I'll stay here with you, just in case you need anything."

Hera glanced at him in surprise, but Ezra continued to keep his gaze trained on the wall. Kanan wasn't quite sure if Ezra was even listening, but he decided to take his silence as acceptance. He turned his attention to Hera and explained the rest of his plan. "You can tell the others that Ezra's okay, but he needs to rest. That way they'll keep their distance for a little while to let him recover and-"

"You don't trust me."

That quiet whisper was enough to instantly derail Kanan's train of thought and direct his attention back to his padawan. "What are you talking about? I trust you, Ezra. I just want to help."

Ezra turned his gaze from the wall to meet Kanan's eyes. "You don't trust me," he repeated dully. He turned away again, staring down at his own hands as they clenched the white sheets beneath him. "I understand. I wouldn't trust me, either."

"Ezra..." Hera started, but the boy shook his head to silence her.

"You don't need to pretend, and you don't need to act like nothing happened. I know what I did," he stated almost sadly. "I remember everything."

Kanan and Hera shared a concerned glance with one another. Somehow, they had been prepared for an Ezra who only recalled bits and pieces or nothing at all. How were they supposed to react when he said he remembered attacking his own master?

"Just... try to get some rest," Kanan suggested again, with much less confidence than before. He nodded to Hera, who reached out and squeezed Ezra's hand reassuringly before reluctantly leaving to talk to Zeb and Sabine. She obviously wanted to stay, but Kanan could tell she understood that most of the problem lay between Ezra and himself. That was something that he would have to rectify.

The door hissed shut behind her, leaving the two of them to sit in a strained silence. Kanan desperately searched for the right words to say in this situation, but he was failing miserably. It was almost a relief to see Ezra slowly relaxing again until he fell asleep once more. When he woke up, Kanan would try to talk to him again. This time, he promised himself, things would go better.

* * *

 _They don't trust me._

It would have been obvious even if he hadn't woken up in the middle of Kanan and Hera's shouting match. They had both been so tense, treading carefully around him as if they expected him to snap at any moment. Kanan had seemed even more nervous than Hera, which was understandable. After all, Hera hadn't been the one who was almost strangled to death.

They were right to be distrustful. He still wasn't sure of what had happened, but it had been horrifyingly easy to give in to the Inquisitor's will. It had happened so fast, and it had felt so right. He would never admit to any of the others, but he had felt more comfortable obeying the Inquisitor than he ever had fighting alongside the Spectors. It had felt like that was what he was made to do. How could he trust himself not to hurt any of them if he had feelings like that?

Even while unconscious, he still grappled with his feelings. _What should I do?_

 ** _You could leave them._**

 _What?_ The thought suddenly came to him, startling him momentarily out of his emotional turmoil. _Leave them? Why would I do that? I can't just abandon them!_

 ** _Why not?_** It seemed so odd to be arguing with himself like this, yet this new, intrusive voice seemed calm, collected, and in control; everything her currently wasn't. How could he ignore it if it sounded so logical? **_You can't promise yourself that you won't hurt them. Now that the Inquisitor's found you, he'll never let you go. If you leave now and turn yourself in, you would save your friends from a lot of pain and suffering. Why make them deal with your problems?_**

It did make sense. He didn't want the others to get hurt because of him. If the Inquisitor was indeed trying to hunt him down, it would be simple to slip away on his own and find him first. There was no need for the crew to be involved with his troubles. It was such a quick, easy solution. All he had to do was leave.

The fact that it was so easy was what made him pause. It was too perfect to be a proper solution, at least in his experience. There had to be a catch. He considered it for a few moments before he found a few flaws in the plan. _But the Inquisitor already knows about Kanan. He won't just let him get away. And besides, what will the Inquisitor do to me when I go to him?_

 ** _You don't need to worry about that right now._** The other voice was so soothing to listen to, making it quite hard to go against what it was saying. **_Can't you see how simple this is? Just go to the Inquisitor. Everything will be fine._**

 _I..._ Would it be fine? It was quite simple. If he just went to the Inquisitor, all these worries would go away. Maybe he should leave. It would be for the best. He would just have to sneak past Kanan...

The memory of Kanan being lifted helplessly in the air as he pleaded for Ezra to stop suddenly flooded to the forefront of his mind, providing him with a moment of clarity. What was he thinking? He couldn't go back to the Inquisitor! He would use him to cause more pain to others. He needed to stay here with Kanan, Hera, Sabine, and Zeb. They were his friends, and he couldn't abandon them to walk straight into the arms of that evil monster! He wasn't going anywhere.

He held firmly to his decision, only feeling his resolve weaken slightly at the fading sound of the mysterious second voice. **_You're going to regret it..._**

* * *

 **I'm attempting to write longer chapters, so please bear with me!**

 **p.s. To Papersculpting, who asked a while ago. Here's me trying to incorporate elements of what I had before. I hope it's acceptable! :P**


	11. Chapter 9

**I'm celebrating the end of spring break by publishing a new chapter. Did I say celebrating? I meant lamenting. *sobs quietly in the corner at the thought of school tomorrow***

* * *

Kanan still wasn't quite sure of how to approach Ezra. Even though he had gone to Hera and admitted that she was right about trusting him, he knew he would never be able to convince Ezra of that trust with just words. How could you tell someone that you still believed in them after they had attempted to kill you and make it sound honest, especially when they were doing their best to avoid you at all costs? After Ezra had gotten Hera's approval to leave the med bay, he had somehow managed to mostly hide himself away from everyone on the ship. Kanan didn't know how he did it, especially when he was limited to the confines of the _Ghost_. Ezra even kept away from his usual hiding spots, limiting himself even further. Still, the times that any of the crew members managed to catch a glimpse of their youngest were few and far between.

Despite his worries, it did give Kanan time to think about how to talk to Ezra. He had slowly begun to piece together a plan after Ezra had first woken up, and now that they were about to land on Lothal he was fairly confident that it would work. As long as he could find Ezra, he was sure that he would finally get through to him.

He felt a slight bump as the _Ghost_ touched down on the planet's surface. A perfect landing as always, thanks to their fearless captain. It was a relief to be back on Lothal. It was hard to imagine anything too out of the ordinary happening on this quiet planet. He took it as a sign that they might be able to fix whatever was wrong with Ezra soon. He hoped they could, anyway. It would be nice to have the happy, enthusiastic kid he knew back, instead of the gloomy, depressed person who had replaced him.

They had returned for a quick supply run. The kitchen was running low on food, and Sabine had been dropping subtle hints about a few chemicals that she needed restocked. A trip to the market was definitely in order, and Sabine and Zeb were all too ready to go. They had taken the news about Ezra better than Kanan had expected and had kept their distance to allow him some time to recover. However, that had in turn confined them to certain parts of the ship, which meant they were ready to get out and stretch their legs a bit.

Hera, surprisingly, was also willing to go out. She usually sent him along just in case they had to get away quickly, because _heaven forbid_ he ever attempt to fly her precious baby on his own. However, she understood that Kanan needed to speak with Ezra alone to rectify the tension between them. She had been pleased to hear him admit to her being right about Ezra, but that did nothing to convince the kid. Ezra must have overheard some of their argument when he had first woken up, leading him to believe that Kanan saw him as a threat. It was up to Kanan to try to fix the situation he had created, and Hera was willing to give him the space to do it.

Despite the support he had, he still wasn't completely sure that he was ready to face the kid yet. What if he said the completely wrong thing? What if he pushed Ezra even further away than he already was? Because of his doubts he was hanging around the cargo hold as they prepared for their excursion, making sure they knew what they were getting and asking how much money they each had on them. He probably would have followed them, asking more and more pointless questions all the way to the market if all three of them hadn't stopped him.

"You're stalling, love," Hera informed him as he ran over the list of supplies they needed once again.

Kanan stopped reciting the list and looked ready to protest when Zeb lightly punched him in the arm. "She's right, you know. Just go find the kid already!"

Sabine nodded in agreement before heading down the open ramp. "Nothing's going to get better if you don't talk to him. Even if you're still unsure about it, you have to say _something_."

"I will! I'm going to talk to him," He assured them, "but are you sure you don't need me to go with you? I can always find him later and-"

"Kanan." Hera fixed him with a stare that showed that she meant business. "Go talk to him."

Without waiting for his reply, she and Zeb followed Sabine down the ramp, leaving him behind before he could come up with another excuse.

Kanan watched them go until they were a little ways off before sighing in frustration and heading back inside. He knew they were right, as always. He did need to say something to Ezra and sort everything out. He couldn't let the kid believe that he had absolutely no trust in him forever. If he was honest with himself, he had never really doubted his padawan. He had just been scared and confused, unsure of what was going on and irrationally lashing out against the one person who needed his support the most.

He still didn't know where Ezra had been hiding himself for the past few days, but he did have a few ideas of where to start looking. Ezra was human, after all. He could avoid them all he wanted, but there were a few basic things he still needed to do. For example, eat. He had stopped showing up in the kitchen at the normal times when the others were there, but Kanan had thought he heard him searching through the cabinets on several different occasions when no one else was around. The kid was gone before he could ever build up the confidence to approach him, but he had a good idea of what Ezra's unusually timed schedule was. He was fairly certain that Ezra hadn't meant to develop a pattern, but if he wanted to get around everyone else's schedules he had to create his own. It was just about time, and if he was quiet enough as he approached so he wouldn't scare the kid off…

Once he reached the door to the kitchen he waited outside for a moment, listening intently. He was fairly certain that Ezra would sneak in around this time, so all he had to do was listen for the telltale sound of someone searching… Ah, there it was.

Kanan quickly opened the door and entered the room, intent on at least seeing Ezra before he ran off again. He was rewarded with the sight of his startled padawan balanced precariously on the narrow countertop, frozen mid-reach for whatever he had been attempting to get out of the cabinets. They stared at each other for a few moments in silence before gravity decided to remind them of its presence, sending Ezra tumbling to the floor with a surprised yelp.

Looking at the sprawled, grumbling form of his padawan was too much. He had wanted to remain stoic during their conversation if it ever took place, but he couldn't stop the grin from forming on his face. Nor could he prevent the amused snort that soon turned into full-out laughter. It was worth it to see the indignant glare on Ezra's face that he hadn't realized he had missed so much. It was almost as if everything was back to normal.

However, the moment didn't last. Ezra's expression quickly became closed off as he looked away from his master. "Don't do that," he whispered, almost pleading.

That immediately stopped Kanan's laughter. "Do what?"

"Don't make it feel so... so normal."

"Why not?" Kanan held a hand out to the kid to help him up from the floor.

Ezra ignored the helping hand and shook his head in frustration. "Because it's not! I hurt you, and I could hurt everyone else. I can't..." The kid trailed off, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them in an effort to make himself smaller.

It was a pitiful sight, but Kanan wasn't about to let the kid keep thinking that way. "If I treat you differently," he stated thoughtfully, hand still outstretched, "how will things ever get fixed? We all want to help you, Ezra. You don't need to lock yourself away."

"But... but I could hurt you-"

"You could have hurt me before. Everyone has the capability of hurting others. Whether you do or not is based on your own decisions. Well," he amended quickly as he an image of the Inquisitor flashed through his mind, "it usually is."

Ezra still didn't seem to want to move. Kanan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, if this is about... what I said to Hera when you woke up, I was wrong. I was scared and confused and worried, and I had no idea what to do. I know you probably won't believe me, but it's true."

They stared at each other in silence for a moment before Ezra slowly reached out and grabbed his hand. Kanan hoisted him up quickly, happy that they seemed to have made some progress. Even if there was still a part of himself that was uneasy with the situation, he firmly ignored it. Ezra may be extraordinarily powerful, but he was still his padawan. It was his duty to be with the kid through the good times and the bad. Now that he had made a step forward, he felt relief and hope. They would get through this together.

"Why don't we try meditating together," he suggested casually as he turned toward the door.

He could feel Ezra hesitating behind him. "I don't know..."

Kanan could understand his worry. Meditation meant opening himself to the Force, and after what had happened there was no telling what the results would be. However, he had also concluded that this might be the fastest way of determining the cause of the incident. He hoped Ezra would realize this as well. He really didn't want to push the kid, but they didn't know if or when the Inquisitor would appear in their lives again. The faster they could deal with Ezra's problems, the more prepared they would be for any future engagements.

After thinking it over for a few seconds, Ezra slowly nodded in agreement and followed Kanan out of the kitchen.

* * *

They decided to use the training room. It was large enough for them to give each other some space, as well as the room with the least amount of distractions. Kanan knew that Ezra had enough on his mind already, so adding a room full of random object that could also take away his focus on top of that would not be helpful. There were a few random weapons leaning against the walls, but they could easily be ignored. It was also far enough away from the cargo hold that they wouldn't be bothered when the others returned. Hopefully it would be enough to provide a calm and quiet atmosphere that would relax his tense padawan.

Kanan frowned as he took in Ezra's stiff form. It felt uncomfortable just looking at it. He knew that Ezra was nervous about this, but it wasn't good for him to forcefully attempt to avoid his problems like this. Besides, it had been a while without incident. It would help the kid to loosen up and relax for the first time since the Inquisitor.

He sighed and stood up to walk over to his padawan. "You know, meditation works a lot better when you don't look like someone shoved a stick up your butt."

Ezra squeezed his eyes closed tighter and scrunched up his nose in annoyance. "I know. I'm trying, but..."

"Just relax," coaxed Kanan gently. He gave Ezra an encouraging pat on the shoulder before returning to his own spot. "There's no need to be nervous. I'll be right here if anything happens."

There was a short pause before Ezra subtly shifted his body into a more comfortable position and let out a slow, long breath. It felt good to know that his padawan was beginning to calm down and trust him again. He was sure that once a bit more time had passed, and Ezra eventually began interacting with everyone again, he would see that he had blown the whole thing out of proportion. Things were getting better.

They sat together in silence, aware of the other's presence but still concentrating on their own meditation. The atmosphere was still a bit tense, but it was much better than it had been before. Kanan took a deep breath and slowly let it out, sinking into a calm and relaxed meditative state. He had been a bit stressed himself. His worry for Ezra had left him in a similar state as his nervous padawan. Now that he had told Ezra to relax, it would be hypocritical for him to remain tense.

A small gasp eventually pulled Kanan from his meditation. He opened his eyes to glance at Ezra with mild concern. When his padawan made no further noises, he closed his eyes again with a mental shrug and attempted to return to his meditation. It was a bit unexpected, but it wasn't anything too alarming. It was probably nothing.

However, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. After what had happened before, it was very difficult to ignore such a feeling. His eyes shot open again when he heard Ezra stand up and begin to walk towards the door. Now he was really concerned. It wasn't that strange for Ezra to become bored and want to leave, but that was usually accompanied by loud, good-natured complaining. The only sound that he had heard this time was the rustling of Ezra's clothing. It was too quiet to be normal.

He watched his padawan for a few seconds before realizing that he needed to do something to stop him. He stood up as well and called out, "Where are you going, Ezra?"

Ezra halted but kept his back towards Kanan. The two of them stood there in silence. It was a bit unnerving for Kanan to see his padawan behave like this. The kid was so stiff, and everything about the situation felt so _wrong_. He tried to speak to Ezra again, this time a bit more wary and guarded. It was too much like what had happened with the Inquisitor not to be on his guard. "Ezra?"

He was relieved when his voice finally got a response out of the kid, but the feeling didn't last. "I must return to my master," Ezra replied in an emotionless monotone.

 _Oh no._ Panic began to set in as Kanan realized what Ezra was saying. The reason he was behaving so oddly had to be related to the confrontation at the base. Kanan quickly moved himself between the door and his padawan, both to prevent him from leaving and to confirm his suspicions. Sure enough, Ezra's eyes had once again taken on the clouded, lifeless appearance. This was definitely not the same boy that he had sat down to meditate with.

"What are you talking about?" Kanan asked, frantically stalling for time as he tried to figure out what to do. He needed to somehow prevent Ezra from leaving, and then he would need to get him to return to his normal self. How was he going to do that when he knew that he was no match for Ezra's strength?

Luckily, Ezra seemed willing to talk to him for the moment instead of fighting. "My sole purpose is to obey my master's will. I must return to him."

It both broke Kanan's heart and terrified him to hear Ezra say such a thing. Was this really all he was intended to be? He he really been made to be the Inquisitor's slave? It was hard to believe that anyone would want to twist a child into that. However, it was the Empire. They had done this without any qualms and so much more, and he should have known to expect nothing less from them.

Ezra continued to stare at him blankly, either uninterested in or ignorant to Kanan's emotional turmoil. That only added fuel to his fury towards the Empire and his pity for his padawan. In turning him into their weapon, they had stripped Ezra of his personality and free will. They had completely robbed a being of its true self in order to warp it to their image. It was beyond cruel. He wished he knew how to save Ezra from this existence and give him a normal life, but unfortunately it was too late for that. All he could do was attempt to fix what was currently happening, and he wasn't even sure of how to do that.

"Ezra, listen to me," Kanan stated as calmly as he could, still internally seething at the cruelty of the Empire. "You don't have to go back to them. Let's just sit tight for a little bit and talk about this."

However, it seemed that Kanan's luck had run out. Ezra tilted his head slightly and studied Kanan in a way that made him feel like he was being sized up. "You are trying to keep me from my master."

Kanan nervously ran a hand through his hair and surreptitiously dropped his other arm towards his blaster. "No, not exactly," he chuckled awkwardly. "I just think that you shouldn't be making any rash decisions."

"Move," Ezra commanded. While he was as still as he had been through their entire conversation, Kanan could feel the Force gathering around the kid and tried to prepare himself for the inevitable strike.

He grinned with false confidence and shrugged. "Sorry, can't do that."

Even though he had been bracing himself for it, the speed and power behind Ezra's Force push caught him off guard and sent him flying across the room before he could react. He was able to turn slightly so his back didn't take the brunt of the impact as he slammed into the wall, but it still hurt like hell. It also left him lying helplessly on the ground as he watched Ezra silently walk out the door he had been standing in front of just seconds before. Shoving the pain to the back of his mind, he slowly struggled to his feet, wincing as he felt the renewed damage to his not fully healed leg. He didn't have time to assess the damage. He needed to stop Ezra before he could leave the ship. If only the others were still here and not at the market.

As if fulfilling his desperate wish, there was a loud smacking sound and sudden thud that came from the corridor outside the training room. Limping as fast as he could on his injured leg, he made it to the door and looked out to see what had happened.

He was greeted with the sight of an unconscious Ezra slumped against the wall. Standing over him was a stern-looking and worried Zeb, bo-rifle ready to strike again if needed. When it became apparent that the kid wasn't getting back up any time soon, he sighed and turned to face Kanan's shock and confusion with a rueful shake of his head. "We can't leave you two alone for five minutes, can we?"


	12. Chapter 10

**I have one more final before I am freed from school for several months! Other than summer classes, that is. I'm so ready to be done. Hopefully next semester won't be as bad as this one was.**

* * *

Ezra had once again been taken to the med bay, this time with the addition of restraints to hold him down. The Spectors weren't taking any chances, especially since their youngest member seemed dead set on leaving. They knew that they couldn't let him out of their sight in his current state, which led to them all gathering around Ezra's unconscious form as they decided what to do next.

Not much conversation was taking place. Zeb, Sabine, and Hera still weren't quite sure of what had happened and were waiting for Kanan to explain. Kanan, however, was lost in his own thoughts, angrily seething at what the Empire had done to his padawan. The two conflicting mindsets had let an awkward silence fill the room.

Sabine couldn't stand it. The kid that she had come to consider as her little brother was unconscious and being treated like the enemy. He looked so innocent and helpless. It wasn't that she didn't trust Kanan's story, but she found it very hard to believe that Ezra would ever do anything to hurt them. He was just a kid!

Zeb apparently didn't shared her feelings on the matter, if the lump on the back of Ezra's head was anything to go by. Hera and Sabine had boarded the Ghost after him and hadn't seen exactly what had happened between him and Ezra. Since Kanan still didn't seem ready to explain the situation, she figured that Zeb would be willing to talk. Clearing her throat in an attempt to dispel the tense silence in the room, she gestured to the Lasat. "So, why did you feel the need to hit Ezra as soon as we got back?"

Her question got Hera's attention and even managed to bring Kanan back to the present. Everyone looked expectantly at Zeb, who seemed a bit uncomfortable with the sudden attention.

Zeb shrugged and folded his arms across his chest before looking at Ezra with a frown. "Kid didn't give me much of a choice. I heard a loud crash, which I assume was Kanan hitting the wall, so I went to see what was going on. When I came around the corner, Ezra was coming towards me with this vacant stare and blank face. I knew something was wrong..."

"So your first reaction was to bash Ezra's head it?" Hera asked with concern.

"I panicked, alright? What would you have done?"

Kanan winced as his injured leg suddenly throbbed, acting as a reminder of what Ezra had done to him. "Zeb did the right thing," he sighed. He held a hand up to stop any protests from Hera and Sabine. "Look, I know that you would have probably preferred that Zeb talk to him first, but I had already tried that. Ezra was set on leaving, and if Zeb had waited any longer he would have been attacked as well."

"Where was he trying to go? It's not like he could have made it very far on foot," Sabine pointed out. Only after she said it did she realize how dangerous the situation could have been. It was true that he couldn't have walked very far, but if he had gotten to the _Phantom_...

Everyone looked to Kanan for the answer. He glanced at his unconscious padawan before responding bitterly. "He was trying to go back to the Inquisitor."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Hera, but Zeb and Sabine just looked confused. They still hadn't quite heard the whole story of what happened at the base. They knew the name from the snatches of conversation that they had managed to get out of their fellow crew members, but they were still missing some details. "The Inquisitor? Isn't that the creepy guy you guys fought against?" Sabine asked.

"Yes," Kanan practically growled with a scowl on his face. "He's the one who made Ezra attack me the first time. From the way Ezra talked about him, it sounds like he uses the kid like a slave."

Zeb shook his head in bewilderment and disgust. "Then why would Ezra want to go back to that creep?"

"I get the feeling that he was conditioned or trained to believe that he had no other choice." Kanan's anger grew as he remembered how the Inquisitor had treated Ezra during their confrontation, as if Ezra was a tool or an object at his disposal. If that had been the immediate reaction when seeing him for the first time after so long, he could imagine how his padawan's treatment had been before. "From the way he talked, it sounded like he thought that it was his only purpose for existing."

His words were met with shocked silence as everyone looked towards the unresponsive teen. They couldn't believe that anyone would ever think that way, or be forced to think that way in Ezra's case.

A low growl pierced the silence as Zeb angrily punched the wall. "How dare that Imperial scumbag mess with Ezra!"

Sabine nodded agreement, fury clearly written over her features. "I feel like his face needs to be introduced to my fist. Several times."

"I know we're all upset, but it wouldn't be good to bring Ezra near that being again," Hera stated in a forced neutral tone that didn't match her scowl. "We already know that this all started when they met."

"That's not exactly true," Kanan mumbled thoughtfully to himself. When he realized they others were staring at him with questioning looks, he elaborated. "Ezra had been having those nightmares ever since he first joined the crew. He never remembered what happened in them, but right before we went on the last mission he was able to recall some details."

Hera watched in dismay as Kanan fell back into silent contemplation and quickly spoke up to keep him on track. "Like what?"

Kanan shook himself out of his own swirling thoughts and continued with his explanation. "He remembered being in pain and doing something to make it stop. He also said that someone was pleased with whatever he did. Ezra specifically said it was a he."

"And you were planning on telling us this when, exactly?" Sabine asked, outraged that Kanan would withhold this information from them.

Kanan sighed and held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Look, I promised Ezra that I wouldn't bring it up until he was ready. Then all of this happened and it slipped my mind. Now that I've had some time to think about it, it seems a bit more important than what I had first thought."

"What do you mean?" Zeb questioned, anger still clear in his voice.

"What if all those nightmares weren't just dreams? What if they were memories?"

There was a short silence where the Spectors processed this new information before Zeb exploded in fury. "That's it! I'm gonna kill that damn Inquisitor!"

"You took the words right out of my mouth," Sabine remarked calmly. Her bright, vibrant attitude had quickly morphed into something frigidly cold that boded no mercy. She carefully cracked her knuckles as she thought about all the things she could do to the Inquisitor for hurting her little brother.

Even Hera now seemed to be on board with the idea. She turned to Kanan. "I'm assuming you have a plan?"

"Well," Kanan responded with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I have something."

* * *

"Any changes?"

"Naw," Zeb shook his head and gestured vaguely at Ezra's unconscious form. "He hasn't moved again since we changed direction. We must still be getting closer, though. I almost didn't notice with how quiet he was. Tricky little loth-rat. He probably could have gotten up without me ever even knowing if you hadn't added those extra restraints."

Kanan nodded and quickly relayed the news to Hera before joining Zeb's vigil over his padawan. If he hadn't known any better, he would have assumed that Ezra was still out from the first hit Zeb gave him. However, he knew that wasn't the case. He couldn't stop his gaze from guiltily shifting to the kid's head, where several new bumps had formed due to his plan. The Spectors knew that they needed to confront the Inquisitor, but they had no way of knowing where he went after they had blown up the base.

The one thing they did know was that Ezra reacted when they went a certain way. It wasn't the most precise navigation technique, and it was driving Hera crazy, but it was the only lead they had. Even a problematic solution was better than no solution at all.

The main problem, other than the questionable navigation technique, was restraining Ezra when he started to wake up. It wouldn't have been a problem if he was himself when he came to, but unfortunately that wasn't the case. They had all been excited and relieved the first time Ezra had begun to stir, believing that he had finally been freed from whatever control the Inquisitor had over him. Their relief had quickly turned to shock when Zeb swiftly whacked him on the back of his head with his bo-rifle once again. When questioned about his actions, Zeb simply responded, "He still had those creepy eyes."

Now they kept him under constant surveillance. That was how they became aware of the correlation between Ezra's consciousness and their general direction of travel. They had been at it for several hours now, and Ezra's increased activity had been taken as a sign that they were nearing their goal. The whole crew was tense with anticipation, waiting for Ezra to move again or for Hera to announce that she had found something.

"I hate doing this to him," Zeb mumbled almost to himself as he looked down at the unconscious kid. "I mean, he's already going through enough as it is. It feels wrong to use him like this."

Kanan nodded sympathetically. "I know. We'll just have to apologize after this is over. I'm sure he'll understand. We are doing this to help him."

"I guess."

Sabine unexpectedly popped her head into the room, slightly heavy breathing showing that she had been running. "Hey guys, we finally found something!"

* * *

Their seemingly aimless search had ended at an unremarkable moon. The only thing of interest that Hera had come across was a small base that only appeared to exist to claim the satellite as property of the Empire. It would have been easy to overlook if Ezra hadn't reacted so strongly when they had approached. Now all they had to do was find the Inquisitor and confront him.

"The Inquisitor knows we're coming," Kanan remarked to Zeb and Sabine as they prepared to once again break into an Imperial facility, this time with the added difficulty of being without their usual means of entry. Ezra was the only one of the crew small enough to fit inside vents. They had other methods that they had used before he had joined them, but they took a lot more work.

Sabine and Zeb looked at him in shock, both pairs of eyes clearly asking the same question: how?

Kanan sighed in frustration. He hated that this entire situation, even now, was out of his control. It was clear that the Inquisitor's influence extended further than just over his padawan. "He could probably sense Ezra when we arrived. Ordinarily, we would have been hailed as soon as we hit the atmosphere, but no one tried to contact us. The base isn't even guarded. He's basically inviting us to walk through the front door."

"Well," Sabine's voice cheerfully lilted as she grinned viciously. "If he's going to be so nice, I guess we should knock." Before the others could question her behavior, she quickly stood up and threw something at the base's door before ducking down and covering her head. Zeb and Kanan soon followed her example when the door exploded a few seconds later.

Zeb whistled appreciatively as the three of them surveyed the destruction. "That's one way to say you mean business."

The three of them swiftly entered the base and began their search, their anger driving them to throw caution to the wind. It was too late to be subtle anyway. The smoking wreckage at the entrance was obvious enough, and their quarry was apparently already aware of their arrival. There was no point in sneaking around, which made their job that much easier.

As they ran through several corridors and checked the different rooms that they passed, Kanan couldn't shake the odd feeling that there was something more to this place that they weren't seeing. He couldn't imagine what that could be; the place was just a tiny forgotten base on a small moon. What could possibly be so important about it?

He didn't have any more time to ponder over the strange feeling as a warning in the Force stopped his mad dash through the base. He would recognize that cold, powerful presence anywhere. It was seared into his brain, forever bound with the memory of his padawan attacking him. The Inquisitor had finally decided to show himself.

"We meet again, Jedi. It appears that you have something of mine."

* * *

Chopper was not happy. While everyone else was off doing important things, he had been relegated to the menial task of babysitting. Hera had tried to assure him that this was just as important as what the others were doing, but he just didn't see it. He had been watching Ezra for some time now, and the brat hadn't moved once. The kid was still unconscious and strapped down to prevent him from leaving. He couldn't understand why he had to keep an eye on him if he wasn't even doing anything.

Thankfully, Hera seemed to finally realize that there were better things for him to do. There was a slight crackling over his comlink before he heard her voice come through. "Chopper, I need you in the cockpit."

While he was happy that he might be able to do something useful now, he couldn't help but beep back a sarcastic retort. _What about the kid? I thought watching him was super important._

Hera's annoyed sigh came through just before she turned off her comlink, leaving Chopper to laugh at her irritation. After a few seconds of indulging in his amusement, he did comply to the order and began heading for the cockpit. Even if he did enjoy messing with the crew, he knew that there was a line he shouldn't cross. Openly defying an order from Hera was definitely one of those lines.

As he rolled out the door, he failed to notice the pair of blue eyes that followed his departure.

* * *

Ezra watched silently as the droid finally left him alone. He had been waiting patiently for this moment, but he knew that he had to wait a bit longer. It wouldn't do to have the droid suddenly return and try to stop him. He kept still for a few minutes before carefully shifting to test the restraints that the Spectors had bound him with. They may have made them feel safer, but they must not have realized that such weak things would not hold him for long.

It took him seconds to free himself. He stood up quietly and walked to the door, gaze drawn to the direction that he had seen the droid go.

Now he was left with a dilemma. Should he go straight to his master or deal with the crew members who were still on the ship? He knew that the Spectors were a nuisance and had gotten in the way of his master's plans. If he took care of them now, his master would be pleased.

Yet there was something that held him back. He struggled to identify what the problem was, but it was making what should have been a simple decision into something much more complicated. He knew that he should take care of the threat, but for some reason he couldn't make himself go to the cockpit. He couldn't... he couldn't hurt Hera. She had been so kind and cared for him. There was no way that he could even think about harming her...

He abruptly shook his head to clear those strange, intrusive thoughts away. They were distracting and made it hard for him to focus on his task. If he wouldn't go one way, then that left him with his other option. He turned and walked the other direction. His master would be expecting him.

* * *

Even with their combined strength, Kanan could tell that the Inquisitor was just playing with them. They had been naive to think that they would be able to beat the man into telling them how to fix Ezra. They were barely holding their own against him when he wasn't even trying. It had been a mistake to come here.

He ducked as the deadly red saber sliced through the air over his head and grunted in pain as he was unexpectedly kicked in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Stumbling back a few steps from the force of the blow, he barely raised his own blade in time to intercept the next strike at his head.

A dark chuckle mocked his weak actions. "Truly pathetic. If the rest of the rebellion is as disappointing as this, then the galaxy's hope will crumble to nothing within the year. Did you really think that you stood a chance against me?"

"Not really," Kanan growled, pushing back against the crushing weight the the Inquisitor had applied to his blade. "I just want to protect my padawan from you."

The Inquisitor smirked at his efforts, clearly amused. He allowed Kanan to push his blade away and step back to give Sabine room for a shot. The blaster bolt was easily deflected, and Sabine pushed into a wall with a lazy flick of a hand. She slid to the floor in a crumpled heap next to Zeb, neither of them moving. "Why are you protecting him from me? The boy is mine. What point is there in stopping him when he tries to return to his proper place?"

Kanan tried to hide his surprise, but the delighted laughter that echoed around his was an indicator that he had failed. "You thought that I wouldn't know? I know _everything_ about that boy. I spent years perfecting him, making into the ultimate weapon. I know that he has been trying to return to me."

A sudden lunge brought the red and blue blades back together again, clashing violently in a flurry of blows that Kanan struggled to keep up with. When the attacks finally died down, he angrily yelled, "I won't let you take him! He's not yours!"

Kanan tensed, preparing himself for another strike, but stared in confusion as the Inquisitor suddenly lowered his blade with a victorious grin. "It seems the boy has a different opinion on the matter."

What was he talking about? Ezra was strapped down on the _Ghost_ , being watched by Chopper. Hera would have contacted him is the kid had somehow slipped away, right? A quick glance behind him was enough to prove that he was wrong. Ezra stood quietly at the end of the hallway, calmly staring at him through those clouded blue eyes. How had he gotten off the _Ghost_? Why was he here?

Before he could properly process the situation, the Inquisitor took advantage of his shock. "Come here, child," he called, extending his hand towards Ezra.

Ezra responded immediately, walking towards the Inquisitor without a second thought. He continued walking even when Kanan finally got over his shock and cried out, "No, Ezra! Don't listen to him!" Ignorant to the Jedi's pleas, he pushed past the man's desperately thrown out arms that attempted to block him and stopped before the Inquisitor.

The Inquisitor's grin, if possible, widened viciously as he glanced away from his prize to look upon the Jedi's distress. Still staring at the Jedi, he gave a simple order to the boy: "Kneel."

The response was once again immediate, Ezra quickly falling to one knee and bowing his head in submission to the man before him. The boy was completely unaware of the distraught that his actions caused to Kanan, but the Inquisitor enjoyed every second of it. This was his triumph over the Jedi, his true victory as he destroyed the man's misplaced belief by reclaiming his weapon after so long.

"Rise," he commanded, after he had been satisfied. Ezra stood silently and remained by his side. "Well, Jedi, it seems that you inadvertently returned what is mine, even if it was against your will. To show my gratitude, I will allow you to live. Thank you for protecting the weapon that will inevitably lead to your destruction."

With that, the Inquisitor turned and walked away with Ezra following close behind, leaving Kanan to wallow in his pain and despair.


	13. Chapter 11

**I'm** **back! God,** **I'm** **so bad at uploading.**

* * *

Silence had taken over the Ghost as soon as Kanan had told Hera of their failure. A few simple words had robbed all of them of their will to discuss the matter or even formulate another plan to retrieve their youngest crew member. The suffocating feeling of shocked helplessness had quickly weighed down on the entire crew as they thought about what had happened to their youngest member. It mixed quite well with the guilt that hung heavily in the air, fuelled by the intense brooding of each individual present.

Hera couldn't believe that she had simply let Ezra walk off of her ship and directly into the Inquisitor's arms. How could she have been so distracted? They had all decided to have Chopper watch the kid so something like this wouldn't happen, and she had called the astromech away. Sure, the repairs that she had sent him to do would have been extremely helpful if they had needed to make a quick getaway, but the ship would probably have been fine if she had just waited. However, there was no way to change what had happened now. She had made a decision, and now they were all paying the price for it.

Zeb and Sabine were fuming quietly as they recalled their pitiful efforts in the fight against the Inquisitor. They had been confident in their abilities, in both combat and teamwork, but had somehow been bested in a matter of minutes. In a three against one brawl, no less! If they had taken the time to asses the situation and formulate a solid battle strategy instead of rushing in blindly, maybe things would have ended differently. Instead, they had been propelled by their righteous fury against the being that had done unspeakable things to one of their own. Now, thanks to their mistakes, Ezra was back in the Inquisitor's grasp once more. How could they have let their own stupidity bring about the scenario that they had been trying to prevent?

Kanan struggled to keep his rampant emotions under control, but he was painfully aware that this was another battle that he was destined to lose. He knew that he had been rash and not fully thought his plan through. He also knew that his actions would have been much more sensible if he had not made decisions after such a flamatory discussion with the other Specters about the recent occurrences. He could clearly see that he had been a fool, and everyone had to deal with the consequences.

The entire crew tried to silently deal with their guilt, each member quietly reflecting on everything they could have done differently to change the outcome of the situation. It was the type of behavior that they usually discouraged one another from indulging in, but with all of them feeling guilty it would be hypocritical to tell the others to knock it off. No one really had the heart to rally the crew and get them back on track.

At least, no one did for a few minutes. That was how long Sabine lasted before she couldn't take it anymore. Glancing around at her sullen comrades, she suddenly realized how ridiculous they were all being. They were wasting precious time. "So," she asked cautiously, her even tone sounding like a shout in the hushed atmosphere, "What's the plan?"

Her question was met with several blank stares, all of which inevitably turned to face Kanan. Of course they would look to him. He was the one to come up with the ludacris ideas that usually involved several near-death instances, but somehow got everything taken care of and everyone back home safely at the end of the day. Hera was the one for logical, well thought out ideas. He was the one for the crazy miracles.

Except for the fact that he had nothing. Every thought that could have sprouted into an idea and blossomed into a plan was being held back by the mental playback of his failure. He couldn't come up with something on the spot. That was what had gotten Ezra taken in the first place. What would happen to the rest of the crew if he made the same mistake almost immediately after he had played right into the Inquisitor's hands?

He stared desperately back at the hopeful faces of the other Specters, who were clearly waiting for him and his heroic plan to save the day. He hated to disappoint them, but he honestly had no ideas, no plans, nothing. "I... I don't know."

"You don't know?" Sabine repeated, blinking in surprise.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Zeb added, just as shocked as Sabine.

Hera just looked on silently, a knowing look in her eyes. She, at least, seemed to realize the internal struggle that he was going through. She didn't agree with it, if the slight frown on her face was anything to go by, but she understood his hesitation.

Unfortunately, Sabine and Zeb hadn't noticed. "We have to do something," Sabine pressed, leaning forward a bit as she subconsciously expressed her feeling of urgency. "The longer we wait, the longer Ezra is trapped with that creep! We can't just leave him!"

"I don't plan on leaving him," Kanan quickly tried to reassure her. "I just think that we need to slow down and think this through."

Zeb growled quietly and leveled a glare at Kanan. "What is there to think about? The kid is depending on us!"

Kanan could feel the disapproval radiating from all three of his crewmates. Even Hera was obviously displeased with his reluctance, but she refused to join in the shouting. Instead, she simply conveyed her feelings with a look. That was almost worse that being told off verbally.

Once she had made sure that her opinion on the matter had been conveyed, she decided to join the conversation. "Well, what are our options?"

"We can hunt down that blasted Inquisitor and take Ezra back!" Zeb called out, Sabine vehemently nodding in agreement.

"Okay," Hera conceded, glancing at Kanan. "And what are some problems with that plan?"

Kanan sighed as everyone turned to stare at him again. He gathered his thoughts and started ticking off reasons on his fingers. "One: we don't know where they went. We were kind of busy with getting away before the Inquisitor retracted his "generosity," so we don't even know what general direction they flew off to. Two: time. The Inquisitor has a decent head start, so we'll be hard pressed to keep up with him. Three: the Inquisitor himself. It's pretty clear that we can't take him on our own, and now that he had Ezra back he's going to fight even harder to keep him."

"But we would be fighting harder, too! We're willing to take him on again if it means getting Ezra back, and this time-"

"No," Kanan stated forcefully, cutting off Sabine's argument. He was sure that they would fight harder if it meant retrieving their youngest crew member, but he wasn't sure that it would be enough. He wanted to rescue Ezra just as badly as they did, but he wasn't willing to sacrifice the rest of the crew for that to happen.

Hera could see that Sabine was about to start yelling again and quickly held up a hand to stop the outburst. "Is there anything else we could do?"

This time, her question was met with silence. Sabine and Zeb couldn't believe that Hera and Kanan weren't with them on this. How could they not want to find Ezra now? Every second they spent debating this was time that Inquisitor was using to get away from them. What was the point of talking when Ezra was in the hands of that monster?

"I know that we may not all be in agreement on what to do right now," Hera commented calmly, eyes flicking pointedly at Kanan for a moment, "but I think we all know that we can't leave Ezra behind. So here's what I suggest: we ask for help."

That got everyones attention. Zeb stared at Hera as if she'd gone mad. "Yeah, that's a great idea. Let's just call all of our closest friends and ask them to help us with a crazy rescue mission for some kid that they don't even know. Who would we even ask? Vizago? We don't have anyone to call for backup."

"We'll figure something out," Kanan threw in quickly, looking at Hera thoughtfully. "Why don't you and Sabine... go check over the ship and make sure that there aren't any major repairs that need to be done. I get the feeling that we're going to need the Ghost to be in top shape for this."

"So you two are just going to discuss this on your own? Why can't we-"

"Sabine, please."

A frustrated huff is the only answer he gets, but a few seconds later he has the room alone with Hera. "Are you sure about this?"

"As sure as I've ever been about anything," Hera remarked confidently. "Look, Kanan, I know that you're worried. I figured that this would be the best option. It means that we can start searching quickly, and that we'll have safety in numbers when we find him."

Kanan knew that she had a point. He had felt relieved when she had first suggested her alternative plan. It meant that they would have support while facing the Inquisitor, which would hopefully give them an advantage. It also meant that they would have extra resources to aid their initial search for Ezra. It was a good solution. However, there was an obvious problem that Kanan couldn't overlook.

"The Rebellion won't help when we tell them about what's going on with Ezra. They'll consider him a dangerous Imperial weapon and want to destroy him at all costs."

Hera nodded in agreement. "That's why we don't tell them."

"What?"

"We tell them need-to-know information, but we don't tell them everything," Hera clarified. "We can tell them that the Empire has captured Ezra, and we also tell them that they have acquired a dangerous weapon. We don't have to tell them that Ezra is the weapon."

Kanan shook his head. "That's risky. They're going to find out eventually, and when they do-"

"I know, but it will give us the support that we need right now. We can worry about the consequences later."

It was going to be a problem. They both knew that bringing this up with the Rebellion was going to complicate the situation in the future. However, right now they didn't have a choice. They could either contact Fulcrum and lie to their face, or leave Ezra in the Inquisitor's hands for an undetermined period of time. They knew what they had to do. They just hoped that things would work themselves out in the end.


	14. Chapter 12

**I'm** **actually writing faster? This either means** **I'm** **learning to be more productive, or** **I** **have even less of** **a** **social life than** I **previously thought. Meh.**

* * *

The weapon was his. After years of believing that his finest creation was forever lost to him, he once again had its power under his command. It was a fantastic feeling, one that had a triumphant sneer stretching across his face every time he thought about it. There had been a time when he had lost all hope of reclaiming the boy and had thought that he had indeed been destroyed, but he should have known that the Force was on his side. There had been no reason to doubt.

Now that he had reclaimed his prize, he could put more effort into some of his plans that he had set aside for so many years. The initial loss had been a blow, but with the weapon's return came new opportunities. It gave him a chance to regain his favor with the Empire. It also meant that his exhaustive research had not been for nothing, and that his years of work would finally bear fruit.

It was ironic that his punishment had lead to the boy's discovery. After the... incident at the research base that had cost him the majority of his life's work, he had been assigned the duty of chasing down the insignificant pests that had come to call themselves the Rebel Alliance. He understood that his skills would be useful if any Imperial outpost was suddenly confronted by a Jedi, but the majority of those reports were mistakes or merely rumors. It was obvious that his new position was a severe demotion. It could have been worse, he supposed. He had been allowed to live.

After several wasted years, his luck had finally turned around. The report that Agent Kallus had given him about a Jedi in charge of a Rebel cell had actually proved to be true. The fool had walked right into his trap, so easily that it had almost been humorous. Even the fight that the man had put up had been laughable. Still, it was more entertaining than anything he had done since he had been given his current job. The thrill of a lightsaber duel, even a pitiful excuse for one, was something that he had sorely missed.

He had toyed with the Jedi for a short while, but was unexpectedly interrupted by a sudden shock. It had been a slight annoyance, and he had fully intended to quickly rid himself of the pest before finishing off the Jedi. However, he had turned around to find the boy. Subject EZ-1006, the weapon that had supposedly been lost forever. The child had grown, but there was no doubt that it was him. The Inquisitor had rejoiced in his good fortune, even when a sudden fluke had the boy taken away from him again. There was no need to worry. Once he knew that Subject 6 was still alive, he knew that it was only a matter of time before he reclaimed him.

And he had, he mused as he walked through the halls of his star destroyer. He hadn't even had to go searching himself; the boy had come to him. Or rather, the foolish Jedi and his friends had come after him, and the boy had taken advantage of the situation. It amused him to think about the Jedi's blind trust in the child, when it was obvious that the boy had been compelled to return to the Inquisitor's side. How ignorant. Had the man not learned his lesson when he had almost been choked to death by the very same child that he had faith in?

Such trivial things no longer mattered. His weapon was back where it belonged, and the Jedi would soon be destroyed by the boy that he cared for so much. That thought made him grin wickedly as he entered his personal chambers.

The boy was standing completely still right where he had been ordered to once they had arrived back at the Inquisitor's star destroyer. His eyes had been closed while he had been left alone, but they opened as soon as he was approached. His blank stare followed the Inquisitor as the man strode over and stopped before him, calmly observing the being that would control his life for as long as he remained useful.

It was invigorating to realize that he had his weapon, but seeing him standing in his quarters was an almost euphoric experience. This was the moment where everything changed, for him and for the entire galaxy. The boy would swiftly eliminate any remaining hope that the Empire could be destroyed by mercilessly quashing the Rebellion. He would then be an effective tool against any smaller groups that tried to revive it. This child would ensure that the Empire ruled the galaxy far into the future.

The Inquisitor stared directly into the child's eyes as he gave a command that he hadn't given for several years and had thought that he never would again: "Status report."

"Subject EZ-1006 is ready for commands," the boy replied dully, continuing to stare straight ahead while the Inquisitor paced around him like a predator going in for the kill. It felt amazing to give orders to his finest creation and hear it respond perfectly after being missing for so long. It gave him assurance that his plans and schemes might be possible in the near future. It also made him think that what had happened at the hangar had in fact been a one-time reaction. However, there was only one way to be sure. He needed to test the boy by issuing more commands.

What should he have the child do? He needed to test the boy's abilities to see if they were as strong as they had been before, but he didn't want to do that quite yet. That required a much larger space, preferably at a base where any sudden issues would not result in catastrophic failures in the middle of space. It would be wiser to stick to verbal responses. He decided to start with something simple. "Mission report."

The order was meant to have the boy recount any events away from his handler, whichever officer that happened to be at the time. It was meant to be a succinct report, but the Inquisitor had no idea of where this particular report would begin. The boy could begin to list events starting from when he first disappeared, which would be years of information. The Inquisitor had no intention of listening to it all, at least at the moment. If anything, he could have it recorded to go over later. He was only interested in two things: what had happened when the Bridgers had taken him away, and any information the boy had learned while staying with the Rebels.

However, the child surprised him when he started speaking. "I attempted to return to my handler when I determined that I was outside my parameter without sufficient orders. I waited as the Rebels approached your location-"

"Stop," The Inquisitor snapped, pleased when the boy immediately stopped talking and waited for further instructions, but he was still confused. The boy seemed to be recounting details of what had happened immediately prior to his return. Why wouldn't he report on anything that came before that?

Perhaps a more direct order would give him the information that he wanted to know. "Mission report of all contact with Ephraim and Mira Bridger."

The boy stared at him almost quizzically for a moment, another warning that things might not be as perfect as they seemed, but the show of emotion was gone as quickly as it had come. The blue eyes were blank and empty once again when the boy opened his mouth to speak. "Mira and Ephraim Bridger oversaw multiple physical examinations throughout my training."

After waiting a few seconds to see if the boy would elaborate or continue, the Inquisitor growled in frustration. The boy should have been spouting years worth of information from their time apart, not reciting facts that he already knew! He had counted on the boy's physical abilities diminishing somewhat, but he hadn't thought that basic orders would be an issue as well. What had the doctors done to him?

He wondered briefly if the child was being difficult on purpose. That had been a problem early on, when basic orders were still being programmed and several other subjects were still involved with the program. While the others had given in early on, Subject 6 had made it his mission to be a nuisance. When being trained on verbal commands, he would appear to comply with his handler's wishes. However, his answers would never hold any substantial information and usually held a hint of sarcasm. His eyes had a vicious fire in them back then. The vivid cerulean had flashed with hatred and defiance, revealing his strong will and stubbornness against his superiors. That light had convinced the Inquisitor that the boy would be the one to rise above the others and prevail, while other officers had taken it as a sign that Subject 6 was doomed for failure. It had taken longer than he had planned and required stronger and more... questionable means, but the boy had eventually broken and become all the Inquisitor had hoped for.

The eyes were what stopped that train of thought quite abruptly. They still held the same glazed look that they had developed ever since the child had finally submitted to his will. No, it had to be something else.

Fighting back against his frustration, he forced himself to rationally analyze the situation fully. If the boy wasn't purposefully withholding information, then either his commands needed to be even more specific or something was preventing the child from speaking. The first option was easier to deal with. It would still give him the information he sought eventually, and the boy's actions could be corrected with more training. The second option was problematic. It could lead to any number of unknown behaviors and side effects in the child and would most likely take lengthy examinations and tests to determine the source of the problem.

That would take time he didn't have to spare, prolonging his plans and giving the Rebels a window of opportunity to attempt a rescue mission. It also meant that the child would be useless to him for however long it took to fix him. It would be a major inconvenience and could lead to disaster.

Coming to these unpromising conclusions, he was only left with one option: test the boy again and observe the outcome. He felt a slight tinge of unease when he stated as clearly as possible, "Mission report of your capture by Ephraim and Mira Bridger."

Blue eyes remained locked on the intense golden gaze as the Inquisitor studied the boy's reaction. At first, everything seemed fine. There was a flicker of acknowledgement behind the clouded gaze as the child went to respond. "I-"

Then, quite suddenly, everything went wrong. The boy halted his statement abruptly and blinked as if surprised. A few more blinks seemed to clear the cloudiness from his eyes, leaving a vivid hue shining with confusion. Panic was quick to follow as the child took in his surroundings. "What?" He muttered, clearly not understanding what was going on.

The Inquisitor was just as confused. The change had been so fast that he hadn't been able to prepare himself to deal with it, and was now left unprepared with a panicking and uncontrolled weapon. After a moment, his mind finally seemed to comprehend the situation and began supplying ideas as to how to remedy the situation. The flow of possible solutions sped up ever so slightly when he realized that the boy was barely holding on to his self control, pushing dangerously close to snapping. Before that could happen, he quickly barked an order that he fervently hoped would get through.

"Sleep."

The boy collapsed, unconscious before his body even hit the ground. The Inquisitor counted himself lucky that at least _that_ command still seemed to get the correct response. If the boy had lost control again... He hated to admit that he had no real way of combatting the boy's power if his orders weren't heeded. He supposed that it was his own fault for creating a weapon with capabilities that far surpassed his own. He had been so confident in his work, and had never really considered what would happen if that power was unleashed without any way to reign it in or control it. And now, unless he could discover what was wrong, he just might get an answer to that question, one he was sure that he would not enjoy.


	15. Chapter 13

**Hello. I'm still alive. Have a shitty update as an apology.**

* * *

"So, what's the plan?" Sabine was obviously still angry about being sent away while Kanan and Hera talked. Her clipped tone and tense posture paired oddly with the look of anticipation and hope in her eyes. She may have been frustrated about being shut out, but she still trusted Kanan and Hera to find a way to reunite their family.

Zeb had also seemed slightly disgruntled at their earlier dismissal, but had apparently gotten over it fairly quickly. Instead, he was ready for action, and completely mentally prepared beat the Inquisitor to a pulp.

Kanan was glad that they were willing to trust them to find a solution, but he knew that this plan was going to be difficult. He and Hera had managed to keep the others in the dark about their ties to the larger Rebellion up until now, but calling for help would most likely change that. It was something that they had decided to reveal for Ezra's sake.

The problem would be keeping Ezra's abilities a secret from whoever came to their aid. There was no way that such an important detail would remain hidden in the long run, but if they didn't try they would most likely be teaming up with enemies instead of allies. Getting Ezra back was their top priority. Whatever came from their actions could be dealt with later.

For now, he just had to make sure that everyone understood that reasoning before they made contact with the other rebels. Getting Ezra back was their top priority. Whatever came from their actions could be dealt with later.  
For now, he just had to make sure that everyone understood that reasoning before they made contact with the other rebels. He knew that it was a fairly simple explanation and that Zeb and Sabine would agree wholeheartedly if it helped keep Ezra safe, but he still wished that Hera hadn't left him to do this alone. Now he had to fumble his way through countless questions without any backup. This was most likely Hera's way of getting back at him for not contacting her during their last op. While her ability to hold a grudge and subtly extract revenge were impressive, he found those traits hard to appreciate at the moment.

Before he could even begin to explain things, Sabine plowed on. "Are we really getting outside help?"

"Who did you manage to find?" Zeb added, taking advantage of the short pause when Sabine stopped to take a breath.

"Since when is that even an option?"

"How did you convince them to help?"

"What-"

"Stop," Kanan said loudly in an effort to be heard over the constant chatter. He was sure Hera was currently laughing at his frustration. "If you give me a minute to talk, you might actually get some answers."

He waited for a moment to see if either of them were going to interrupt him, and when it was apparent that they weren't he continued. "Since it's obvious that we can't take on the Inquisitor alone, we did ask someone to help us."

"Who is it?" Sabine asked. Zeb had been about to ask the same question. Who could possibly be willing to help them rescue some random kid that they didn't even know?

Kanan sighed. "There are other beings in the galaxy rebelling against the Empire. You do realize that we're not the only ones, right?"

"We know that," Sabine huffed in annoyance. "What we want to know is why we can suddenly just call up some other rebels out of the blue and ask for help. Since when is that a thing? Have you and Hera known about this the whole time and never told us?"

This was it, then. This was the moment where he finally opened up and told them the whole truth about what they were doing. They probably should have been told a while ago, and they had the right to know that they were a part of the Rebel Alliance. It was well past time to say it. So why was it suddenly so difficult to talk about it, especially when he was faced with Zeb and Sabine's expectant stares?

He needed to tell them. There was no use in avoiding it any longer. However, his mouth apparently wasn't on board with that. "I... that doesn't really matter right now," he heard himself say, even as his brain was frantically trying to stop it. "What we need to worry about is how we're going to keep Ezra safe."

What was he doing? He had to stop stalling and tell them the truth? He shouldn't be distracting them by bringing up Ezra right now. Although, he needed to discuss this with them as well. He might as well take advantage of the topic change, especially when it had grabbed their attention so effectively.

"What about Ezra?" Zeb asked, concern evident in his voice.

"We need to keep his... oddities between us," Kanan responded, glancing between Zeb and Sabine to make sure that they understood. "We don't need to broadcast the fact that the Empire wants to use him as a weapon. That might warp some people's opinion of him, which could cause our rescue mission to go south very quickly."

He had hoped that they would catch on quickly, and he was relieved to see them slowly nodding in agreement as they thought over what he had said. It would make things a lot more difficult if they weren't all on the same page, especially for Ezra. If this was going to work, they needed to hide his abilities at all costs.

"Alright," he said, clapping loudly to accentuate the word. He grinned when both Zeb and Sabine jumped at the sound. "Let's get to work. Ezra's waiting for us."

* * *

"How'd it go?" Hera questioned as Kanan slumped into the copilot's chair. She couldn't help but observe the stiffness in his posture, most likely due to the stress of the situation, and the general weariness that seemed to weigh him down. He had always been one to wear his emotions on his sleeve, and he always tried to take the brunt of the pain for the crew so they wouldn't have to suffer. It wasn't healthy, and in the end it never really accomplished anything other than causing crippling self-doubt. One day, she would finally convince him that not everything was his fault.

However, she was happily surprised to see a small spark of hope in his eyes. It was a slight change, but it was enough to boost her confidence and give her some hope as well.

Kanan sighed and leaned back in the chair to stare out into space. "They agreed. I think they had already realized that on their own. I know that they would never do anything to intentionally put Ezra in danger."

Hera nodded and looked out at the stars thoughtfully. Of course they wouldn't. There probably hadn't been any real need for Kanan to warn them not to say anything. However, you could never be too careful. A small slip, no matter how unintentional, could lead to disaster. They needed to be sure that Zeb and Sabine would keep quiet, especially when they had no idea of who Fulcrum had sent to help them.

That train of thought made her suddenly notice something Kanan hadn't mentioned. "And how did they take the news about the Alliance? I'm sure Sabine was ecstatic to finally be in the loop."

Kanan made a noncommittal noise and continued to stare at the stars. He was avoiding her gaze, she realized, and her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You did tell them, right?"

He was still refusing to look at her, and his expression had morphed into something that she could only describe as looking guilty. "Kanan Jarrus! Don't tell me you didn't say anything."

"I'm sorry! I just... I don't know," Kanan looked miserable and completely disappointed in himself, which managed to cool Hera's outrage somewhat. It didn't soften her accusing glare much apparently, if the way Kanan seemed to be trying to curl in on himself was any indication. When he didn't say any more, she folded her arms over her chest and nodded for him to continue.

The silence lasted a little while longer while Kanan seemed to gather his thoughts. Eventually, he responded, "I... I guess I'm not ready."

Oh. Hera felt like smacking herself. After everything that had happened with Ezra, why hadn't she realized that telling the others about the Rebellion would be so difficult for him? It would take away one of the few things they had to keep the others safe. She should have known that asking Kanan to strip away that protection was not going to end well. However... "It's not really a matter of whether you're ready or not," she reminded him gently. "Zeb and Sabine have the right to know."

"I know," Kanan mumbled. "I just don't think that I can be the one to tell them."

They sat quietly while they both digested the other's point of view of the situation. Hera could understand that Kanan would need some time before he returned to his usual, outgoing self. She also knew that Zeb and Sabine needed to be told at some point, preferably soon. She sighed and made a decision. "Fine. I'll tell them, but you need to pull yourself together soon. We're counting on you."

She could practically feel Kanan's gratitude flowing off of him in waves. She gave him a small smile before kicking him out of the cockpit so she could contemplate how she was going to handle Sabine when she found out.

* * *

The _Phantom_ glided swiftly through the low-hanging clouds of the gloomy Lothal sky before landing near a rocky outcrop that shielded it from any prying eyes. Kanan heard Zeb let out a small sigh of relief when they touched down, but something kept his own body tense and alert. They may not have been spotted by any Imperials so far, but the day was still young. They were also going to meet up with complete strangers to discuss the fate of their youngest crew member. They couldn't really afford to relax until all of this was over.

He knew that this was supposed to be a friendly meeting, but he found himself subconsciously checking his belt to make sure that his blaster and lightsaber were in place. You could never be sure of how any meeting would end, he supposed, so it was always best to be prepared for the worst. Especially when you planned on approaching a group of armed and dangerous beings and lying to their faces.

Zeb seemed to have the same feeling as he strapped his bo-rifle to his back. Once the two of them were ready, they left the _Phantom_ behind and began to trek up a narrow stone path to the predetermined meeting point. A few more adventurous loth-cats scurried out of their way and back down the slope as they walked past, occasionally weaving between their legs and almost causing them to trip. They eventually made it past the point that the small creatures dared to climb, leaving them to hike uninterrupted.

Kanan was sure that, under any other circumstances, he would have enjoyed the hike and the scenery, slowing his pace using it as a much needed reprieve from the crazy amount of action that they had been involved with recently. It was always good to relax whenever he found the time to do so. However, relaxation was something he couldn't afford right now, not when Ezra was in danger. He needed to be fully alert and focused, never wasting a second that could have been used to bring his padawan home.

They reached their destination fairly quickly. The path that they had taken widened out into a large, flat area before narrowing again and heading back down the other side of the structure. The looming stone face that overshadowed it and the surrounding rocks kept it well hidden. It seemed like a good place to discuss treason, especially when you were already a wanted figurehead in the area.

Even with the convenient cover provided by nature, Kanan couldn't help but feel slightly nervous. He trusted Hera and knew that her plan was the only thing that they could work with right now, but the idea of calling for help, especially in this situation, made him uneasy. While it was possible that these other rebels would be sympathetic to their plight if they somehow figured out the truth, the more likely outcome of all of this would involve a lot of anger and violence. Their current predicament was hazardous enough without throwing that kind of wild card into the mix.

Luckily, or unfortunately depending on how he viewed the meeting later on, he didn't have much time to think about it. The small scuffle of stones being displaced had both him and Zeb reaching for their weapons and eyeing the trail opposite the one they had climbed. The steep incline made it impossible to see who was approaching until they were practically right on top of them, unless they peered over the ledge and gave away their position, so they simply had to wait and hope that whoever it was wasn't ready to shoot them on sight.

Their first sight of the man didn't exactly do anything to calm their nerves. He appeared to be human, or was at least passable as one. Dark red hair, tinged with grey at the roots, reached just past his chin and hung loosely around his face. His skin was very pale, almost to the point of being unhealthy, and riddled with nasty scars, souvenirs of countless battles and deals gone wrong. The tattered coat that he wore had probably once been part of an impressive military uniform, but years of wear had left it looking bruised and broken.

His eyes, however, were what really drew their attention. The pale brown hue was speckled with red, an unusual mixture that made a striking impression. However, it was hard to hold eye contact with such a gaze. Those strange eyes held the echoes of years of violence, blood, and sorrow. This was a man who had been through hell and picked up some fairly wicked demons along the way.

He was followed closely by a being that made Kanan do a double take and Zeb tighten his grip on his bo-staff. Their scaly grey-green skin, long tail, and protruding teeth made them immediately identifiable as a Barabel. They were known as one of the fiercest warriors in the galaxy, and if Kanan remembered correctly, had been allies of the Jedi. If things went south, he hoped that that connection might give them an edge. Revealing Ezra's status as a Jedi padawan could, for once, be an advantage.

When the two beings reached the ledge, Kanan decided to take charge. He wanted to be the one who directed to conversation, especially since he wanted to avoid certain topics. "I'm Kanan Jarrus, and this is my crewmate, Zeb Orrelios."

"Renar Druce," the man stated simply, and gestured to the Barabel. "Vaja." Each team scrutinized the other from across the healthy amount of space they had left between one another. No handshakes were offered during the introductions, and neither pair showed any signs of wanting to move closer. It wasn't quite a stand-off, but the wary mistrust that each being regarded the other with was plenty to prove that neither of the crews would be forming a lasting alliance. This was a one time deal, and then they would all go back to sabotaging the Empire in their own way on their own time.

A tense silence stretched out between them and left Kanan feeling pressed to explain the situation and leave as quickly as possible. Renar didn't show any obvious signs of annoyance other than appearing to be a bit bored, but Vaja's tail flicked viciously back and forth to reveal her agitation. She crossed her arms and glared at the Specters, daring them to give her and her captain a good reason for taking up their precious time and presenting a clear threat of what she could do if she wasn't pleased with their answer.

Kanan cleared his throat uncomfortably and started the carefully rehearsed explanation of their plight. He and Hera had gone over it numerous times to ensure that it didn't come off sounding awkward, but it didn't help much. He knew how much was at stake if he got this wrong, and every word he said only added to his building stress.

It didn't help that Renar stared at him the entire time, seeming to carefully pick apart his lies with those unusual eyes of his. It was definitely unnerving. Kanan almost would have felt better if the man had verbally called his bluff. Instead, he was only left with the feeling that the man knew he wasn't being entirely truthful.

When he finished his story, there were no accusations. Renar simply nodded in understanding and tossed him a communicator that they could use to share any information they found. Once that was settled, there was nothing else to do but leave and begin their search with renewed vigor.

It was only after they had put a good amount of distance between themselves and their new allies that Zeb spoke up. "I don't think he believed us."

"Neither do I," Kanan mumbled in agreement, brows furrowing slightly in concern. Renar Druce was going to be a problem.

* * *

 **I don't really like using OCs, but I need them for later plot points. And yes, if anyone noticed, I shamelessly stole Renar's last name from the Star Wars Kinect game. It was an awful game, so I don't think anyone cares.**


	16. Chapter 14

**Hey. Guess who hasn't seen anything from season 3 because she's been too busy with school, work, and rewatching _Clone Wars_? You guessed it: my sister. (Also me, I suppose.)**

* * *

This was a problem, one with potentially disastrous consequences. Everything he had tried, every test he had run, had come up inconclusive. His earlier hopes that whatever was wrong with the boy would be an easy fix had been dashed long ago. There was something wrong, but no equipment that he had at his disposal could identify a problem. It was infuriating.

The Inquisitor scowled as he glared down at the still form of the boy strapped to the table before him. This was supposed to be his moment of triumph. He finally had his weapon, so it should have been time to enact the plans that he had put off for so long. Now, even the vague thought of being back in the Emperor's favor was swept away with a twinge of dread. He had tried to ignore the pressing feeling at the beginning, but he was starting to see that his worries were well founded. Something was very wrong, he didn't know what it was, and he had no way of fixing it. Those damned doctors somehow still managed to harass him from beyond the grave.

He had been a fool to underestimate them. This whole fiasco was the result of his erroneous assumptions. He had assumed that he was capable of handling any traitors within the facility. He had then assumed that the Bridgers had taken the boy with the intention of finding a way to destroy him. And, because he had so adamantly believed in his aforementioned conclusions, he had been blind to the treachery that had almost ruined him.

Now, in hindsight, he could see his folly. Each misstep in his logic was glaringly obvious, one mistake after another leading to his weapon being stolen away. He had been much too confident after the annihilation of the initial medical team, sure that that little display would be sufficient in deterring any future thoughts of descent or rebellion from his subordinates. The lone assistant that he had spared had been especially cowed, never again questioning the procedures she was ordered to perform on the child. He had once thought that she might have been grateful. After all, the purging of the medical staff had resulted in an immediate promotion. Anyone with the proper mindset for the Imperial military would have been pleased by this unexpected development in their career.

Then came the Bridgers. Their recruitment into the program may have come as an unexpected surprise to them, but the decision had been thought over for weeks before they were approached. While one medical officer was easier to keep under control, they were not conducive to treating patients in a timely manner. It was also important to find someone who had more experience dealing with the ailments of children. The Bridgers had seemed like an ideal choice. It had been quite easy to make them disappear from the inconsequential town that they called home. Their assistance had been invaluable, despite their thinly veiled contempt for their situation. However, the discontent of underlings mattered little in the grand scheme of things.

Or so he thought, until the day that his life's work was nearly destroyed and his most prized subject was torn from his grasp. He was sure that there had been warning signs, but he had been blind to the betrayal until the very last moment. There was nothing that he could have done at that point to prevent those unfortunate events from unfolding right before his eyes.

He had been sure that the Bridgers would destroy the child at the first opportune moment. They would have justified their actions with ramblings about the greater good of the galaxy, and how ending one life would save the lives of millions. Instead, for reasons that he couldn't fathom, they had simply hidden the boy away. Why? Had they been unsuccessful in their attempts to kill the boy and had been left with no other options? Had they reasoned that tampering with him would be just as vexing as ending the boy's life?

The Inquisitor pulled himself out of his musings over the past with a shake of his head, an odd mixture between a grimace and a sneer pulling at his lips. He couldn't afford to lose his way whilst chasing after memories of his failures. There were more important things to attend to. He returned his focus to the unconscious child and contemplated his next move. He knew it was only a matter of time before the rebel pests brought themselves back into the picture. His elation at being reunited with the boy after so long had led to him allowing the rebels to escape. Now, he realized, that was another error to add to his growing list of mistakes he had made where the boy was concerned. While their cause was futile, rebels were annoyingly adept at reclaiming their own. Since they had obviously become accustomed to the boy being a part of their crew, it was certain that they would mount some sort of rescue mission in the near future.

This left him little time to diagnose and correct whatever was ailing his weapon. He practically growled in frustration at the thought. He had spent far too much time attempting to understand the problem, and he was no closer to solving anything than he had been when he started. He had gone over every possible thing that he could think of, but whatever the Bridgers had done still managed to elude him. There were only so many ways that simple family doctors could tamper with a powerful force like his weapon. Surely whatever they had done could be easily reversed. All he had to do was find it.

However, as more and more time passed, he was beginning to doubt even those conclusions. It was becoming clear that whatever had been changed ran much deeper that he had previously believed. This left him with two thoughts, neither of them promising: either he had underestimated the ability of the Bridgers, or he had overestimated his control over the boy. Because, at this point, all evidence pointed towards a skilled force user messing around in the boy's head. This either meant that the Bridgers had been much stronger than he had ever believed, or that the damage was self inflicted.

There was no way for him to know which was true, but he did know that he needed to hurry. Time was not on his side, and he would need every precious second he could detain in order to accomplish what needed to be done. He took one last glance at the boy's sleeping form before closing his eyes, placing a hand on the boy's forehead, taking a deep breath, and plunging himself deep within the child's mind.

He briefly registered the boy reacting to the sudden sense of discomfort that accompanied another being forcing its way into his mind, but the Inquisitor elected to ignore it in favor of finding the problem as quickly as possible. He had already done this several times before, each attempt as unsuccessful as the last. This time, however, he was going deeper than he had on his previous attempts.

He pushed his way through the boy's subconscious, blatantly ignoring the obvious damage the child had suffered by his hand. Of course the process of breaking him down to rebuild him to perfection had taken a toll on the boy's psyche, but progress was rarely made without a few sacrifices. Each scar was a mere reminder of the hard work and effort that was needed to mold the child's mind to the will of the Empire. He did not care about such things at the moment. The only damage that mattered was anything that didn't bear the markings of the efforts of years past.

He found himself growing increasingly concerned as he delved further and further, still coming up with nothing. Well, he supposed he had found some things, but they were too small to be the whole problem. Many memories that he skimmed past in his search for answers were jumbled and unclear. Some were completely wrong all together, the images and events in no way matching up to the timeline of the boy's existence. His biggest concern was that he was almost forced to view everything at a distance, as if there was some kind of barrier keeping him from fully accessing the boy's mind. Each individual discovery pointed to a larger concern, so he was forced to keep digging.

He eventually reached a point where he could sense… something. It was faint, but it stood out from what he had observed thus far. It felt odd. He couldn't quite describe the sensation, but it was definitely something that didn't belong. He willed himself towards the oddity, hoping that he had finally stumbled across the problem. The feeling strengthened as he approached, becoming slightly clearer as he tried to determine what it was. It felt broken. It was different from the damage that he had seen before. It was less of a scar and more of a rip or tear. It was almost like-

A sudden flash of pain engulfed him as his progress was halted, and he found himself back in his own body. He was disoriented for a moment at the rapid turn of events, but he quickly regained his composure. He pushed the echoes of the pain he still felt to the back of his mind as he stared down at the boy once more, this time with a new sense of curiosity. This development was still troubling, but it was interesting, nonetheless. He had never realized that the boy was capable of doing such a thing. He would have to study the phenomenon later. For now, he needed to find a way to fix the separation-

His train of thought ended abruptly as a sudden explosion echoed through the ship. So the rebels had arrived to save their precious teammate. He took one last look at the boy before turning towards the door, one hand already reaching for his lightsaber. He was annoyed by this little interruption. However, he reasoned with a feral grin, after he dealt with the pests, he would have all the time in the world to spend correcting his weapon. Then there would be no force in the galaxy that could stand in his way.


	17. Flashback Part 2: Saving Subject 6

**When all of your planning for chapters is super detailed, but for some reason you decided to give one chapter a** _ **one sentence summary**_ **and expected your future self to know what to do with it. Like, seriously, I don't know what I was thinking. There had to be more going through my head than 'The Bridgers escape with Ezra.' Fight me, past self. I'll kick your ass for making things so difficult.**

* * *

After the first surprise inspection, Subject 6's visits to the medical bay became much more frequent. It was obviously hard for Emi, who struggled to hide her trembling hands while she conducted tests and administered whatever medicines or chemicals had been provided for the boy. Mira and Ephraim had not been told what was involved with the injections that Emi gave him, but that didn't stop them from trying to figure it out. They didn't like the idea of giving a child an unknown concoction, especially when they didn't know what it did and what the side effects would be.

However, as much as they wanted to protest, the Bridgers somehow managed to hold their tongues. If they wanted to have any chance of saving the boy, they knew that they couldn't do anything that would raise suspicion. Voicing descent now would only draw attention to themselves. Playing along with the Empire's agenda was painful, but it was necessary in order to achieve a more favorable future.

Days of inspections and treatments gave way to nights of planning. Slower moments in the med bay were used for this as well. It was difficult, due to the constant surveillance and occasional unexpected visits of officers, but they somehow managed to stitch together a vague idea of freedom. It wasn't perfect, but it gave them a small glimmer of hope. With copious amounts of luck, they could quite possibly manage to pull off this insane rescue attempt.

Through the planning, the Bridgers came to realize that they didn't know much about Emi at all. When Mira brought up the obvious problem of the cameras, Emi waved off her concern and mentioned feeding looped images through the security system, speaking as if this was a fairly standard procedure for her. When Ephraim suggested stealing a ship from the hangar but wondered if there would be any that they would be familiar enough with to fly, Emi stated that they didn't have to worry about their escape vehicle. When they pressed her further, she admitted that she was friends with a crew that was sometimes used to obtain and transport supplies that were difficult to find. Even though they occasionally worked for the Empire, Emi assured them that this crew would be sympathetic to their cause and perfectly willing to cause these monsters to have a few major setbacks, even if it meant losing some business. They just needed to coordinate their escape with their drop schedule, and everything would be fine.

Both Mira and Ephraim were able to offer some skills that seemed to surprise the medical aid as well. When Emi brought up the need for a distraction, Mira offered to construct an explosive device, provided that Emi could help her surreptitiously gather the correct materials from around the base. When they discussed ways that they could transport Subject 6 to the hangar without him fighting back, Ephraim volunteered to put together a sedative, since the Empire had decided not to provide them with any.

The biggest problem looming over their heads was the task of hiding Subject 6 from the Empire in the long run. Even if they were able to disable any tracking device that he was fitted with, they would still have to deal with the odd connection between the boy and the head of the program. The imposing Pau'an, whom the Bridgers had only glimpsed from a distance, was rumored to have some sort of supernatural link with his prized weapon. Emi had explained that he was kind of like a Jedi, the exterminated former peacekeepers of the galaxy. He would be able to find the boy without any problems, unless they could find some way to sever the link.

Ironically, that particular problem was solved for them by the Empire. Among the almost constant flow of new unknown injections, another step was integrated into the boy's inspection routine not long after they began planning their rescue mission. The small blue pills were delivered to them quite suddenly, with strict instruction to give one to the boy on each visit. They did as they were told and carefully noted the child's reaction to this new supplement. After a few visits and a thorough comparison of their notes, they were able to determine that the pill was some sort of inhibitor or suppressant for the boy's abilities. They could only assume what use the Empire could have for them, but that didn't matter as much as the opportunity it provided them. If they could break down the pills and determine the ingredients, they could have a reliable way of preventing the Empire from finding the child once they took him away.

With all of those problems worked out, they were able to piece together a timeline. They would wait for a day when Subject 6's inspection overlapped with a delivery from Emi's friends. Emi would loop old security footage starting when an inspection would typically end, hopefully allowing the rest of their actions to go unnoticed until it's too late. They would sedate the child, taking advantage of the fact that he would have already taken a suppressant. Emi volunteered to act as the distraction by setting off explosives near the area of the base where Subject 6 would usually go after an inspection, allowing time for Mira and Ephraim to get the boy and as many suppressants as possible to their escape ship. Emi would meet them there, and they would all fly away to freedom, leaving the horrors of this place behind them.

It seemed like a solid plan, and they were fairly confident that they could pull it off. All they had to do was wait for the opportune moment to put their ideas into action. Then they and Subject 6 would never see this wretched place ever again. It was a wonderful thought, knowing that they would save that boy from such a horrible fate. With that in mind, the doctors awaited the day that everything would change.

* * *

The inspection was proceeding normally. EZ-1006 sat patiently through each injection and quietly cooperated with any physical examinations that were required of him. If he noticed the unusually tense atmosphere of the med bay, he did nothing to acknowledge it. Ephraim wasn't sure that they would even know if the boy could tell that something was different. He always maintained the same blank, emotionless expression through the entirety of each visit. It was equal parts unnerving and heartbreaking.

As they neared the end of the examination, the three medical practitioners felt more and more nervous. Would their plans be discovered? Did Subject 6 notice that something was off about this visit? They had no way of answering their fearful questions. They simply had to trust that they could still pull this off.

Ephraim couldn't help but look at Emi every few minutes to see if they were ready to proceed. Whenever she caught his searching gaze, she would subtly shake her head and continue with her work. He knew that the looped footage wouldn't start until the end of a traditional examination, but he couldn't help it.

When they reached the end of their usual inspection, Subject 6 moved to push himself off of the examination table. Ephraim looked up at Emi one last time, and, receiving a nod of confirmation, put a gentle hand on his shoulder to stop him. He anxiously met those blank blue eyes with his own. It was now or never. All of their planning had led up to this moment. He just had to keep his expression convincingly blank and act as normally as possible.

"Hold on a minute," he stated as calmly as he could manage. "We still have one more thing to do before I let you go."

The boy stared at him for a moment, causing Ephraim to internally panic. Was he suspicious? Did he know that they hadn't actually been authorized to give him anything else? That small moment was pure agony as he waited for Subject 6 to call him on his bluff.

Instead, the child blinked and settled himself back on the table, prepared for whatever new thing the doctors required of him. Ephraim refrained from letting out a sigh of relief, opting to let Mira give Subject 6 the injection while he pretended to take notes on its effects. However, he was really using the datapad to count down the time until the sedative took effect.

When the boy's eyes finally slipped closed and his breathing slowed, the trio moved into action. Ephraim checked Subject 6's vitals as Mira filled a bag with suppressants and Emi checked the corridor to make sure the coast was clear. The Bridgers joined Emi by the door when they were finished with their respective tasks. Mira handed over a small pouch with the explosives for the diversion and handed Emi the detonator. "Be careful," she cautioned.

The blonde nodded and stuck a hand in her pocket, hesitating in the doorway. Ephraim could feel his anxiety rising with every passing second. They didn't have any time to waste if they didn't want to be discovered. Was Emi having second thoughts? "You'll be fine," he reassured her. "We'll meet up at the ship and be out of here in no time."

Emi sent a quick, harried glance over her shoulder before pressing something small into Ephraim's hand. Her gaze skimmed over him and his wife one more time before she took a deep, shaky breath and smiled. "It was so nice to meet people like you in these troubled times. I hope that fate has kinder plans for you outside of this hell hole. You two really do deserve a happy life. Good luck."

Startled by the sudden farewell, Mira's hushed cry of, "Emi, wait!" echoed faintly off the walls of the now empty corridor before them. Ephraim simply stared at the spot where Emi had been, lost in thought. He and Mira had always assumed that this grand escape plan had been meant for them, Subject 6, and Emi. However, now that he thought back on it, Emi had never really discussed her role or plans for the future after the initial breakout. Had she always intended to act as a distraction and sacrifice herself for their well being?

He shook his head slightly and looked down at the item that Emi had given him. It was a thin piece of flimsy, folded carefully into a small square that was easy to conceal. It was worn from years of use, its once smooth, white surface was textured and faded with splotches of grey in varying shades. The discoloration from countless past messages gave no clues as to the current contents of the flimsiplast, but a brief note on the side pressed towards his palm gave him an idea of the intended recipient, scrawled in tight, looped handwriting: _To My Captain_.

"She can't just expect us to leave her! Why would she change the plans so suddenly? We have to go after her," Mira insisted, pulling desperately at his sleeve in the direction that Emi had gone. When he made no move to acknowledge her concerns, she tugged harder. "Ephraim!"

He clenched his fist around the note, feeling the worn surface crinkle under his fingers under the sudden pressure. Emi had given them her trust and her blessing. Now it was time that they do the same for her. He would trust her decision and hope that she accomplished what she set out to do, even if it meant… No, he wouldn't think about that right now. They had a job to do, and a message to deliver.

He pulled away from Mira's grasp and ignored the indignant, panicked noise she made. "She's made her decision. If she's determined to go through with this, then we need to make sure that her choice was not made in vain." He went back into the med bay and gently scooped the unconscious boy into his arms, motioning for Mira to pick up the bag of suppressants. "Come on. We have a ride to catch."

Mira stared at him for a moment, a flurry of emotions shining through her eyes as she processed this turn of events. Her gaze shifted from him to the child in his arms, and back to him again before she abruptly moved to pick up the bag. She closed her eyes and took a deep, unsteady breath as she pulled the strap over her shoulder. When she opened her eyes again, there was a new spark of fiery determination flickering within them. "Fine," she agreed, letting her gaze linger once again on the sleeping face of the boy. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

The Inquisitor sat in silent meditation as he thought over the progress that his weapon had made over the past few weeks. The boy's powers had begun to fluctuate unexpectedly, to the point that the Inquisitor had some trouble reining him in during training. Luckily, he had been responding well to the suppressants that they had developed for him. Despite the obvious drawback of not being able to sense the child for a time after he had taken one, it did provide an opportunity for stealth on future missions when he was faced with a Jedi.

He was very pleased with his achievements, and was confident that the child's development was almost complete. A bit more time spent here at the facility was necessary, but soon his weapon would be advanced enough to be sent on a few trial missions under his guidance. If those went well, then it would be time to move on to the next stage of his plans. His master would be very pleased with his work.

As he pondered over the future glory that his weapon would bring to the Empire, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sick, twisted pride. His actions concerning the welfare of the child were in no way commendable, especially when viewed by beings who maintained upstanding moral conduct. However, he had never concerned himself with the opinions of those who were too weak to push such hindrances aside for the sake of progress. Yes, he had effectively destroyed all that the boy had once been, but he was stronger and much more useful because of it. His efforts had created something wonderful, something perfect, that would quash any foolish ideas that the Empire's hold on the galaxy could be easily broken. The sacrifice of one child meant nothing when it furthered such a great cause.

With those thoughts in mind, the Inquisitor stood and headed for the door of his quarters. The boy would be back from his examination by now, and he was eager to get started with this evening's training session. There was so much to be done if his weapon was to be ready by his quickly approaching deadline. He would be a bit earlier than usual, but that would allow for more time in sparring practice. He wanted to make sure that the boy didn't completely rely on his Force abilities in battle. His power would do him no good if he was faced with an opponent who could somehow counteract them, leaving him defenseless. Then all of that time and effort that had gone into perfecting him would have been for nothing.

He had only made it halfway across the room when his musings were derailed by a nearby explosion. He steadied himself as the shock of the blast rippled through the building, attempting to process what was happening. An explosion… was someone else foolish enough to rebel against him? But if it was nearby… then that meant the boy…

He was racing down the corridor at a breakneck pace, heading towards the source of the disturbance. Ordinarily, such an attack on the boy would be no problem, but if he had just come back from an inspection, the suppressants would still be active. He reasoned that this was why he was unable to sense the child's very distinctive Force signature. Instead, he felt the presence of someone he had been convinced would never rise up against him. After all, she had seen first hand what happened to those who defied him.

He turned a corner to find himself faced with a mass of flaming wreckage, the burning glow neatly outlining the perpetrator: the female doctor that he had let live from his former medical team. She reached for a blaster at her hip when she caught sight of him, but she was no match for his speed and power. He grabbed the woman by the neck and slammed her into the wall, pinning her there with no hope of escape.

"You ungrateful wench!" He hissed, tightening his grip around her neck and reveling in the sound of her choked, desperate attempts to draw a breath. "I spared your pitiful life, and this is how you repay me?"

The woman pried at his iron grip with one hand, but it was to no avail. He had her in his grasp, and there was no way for her to escape his wrath. How dare she! When he was through with her, even those closest to her would not be able to recognize her. He would make her pay.

The sound of quickly approaching footsteps caught his attention, and he turned his furious gaze onto the young officer that approached. The man recoiled instinctively from his wrath, but delivered his message anyway: "Someone tampered with the security feed, sir! EZ-1006 never returned from his inspection."

That revelation had him loosening his chokehold, giving just enough space to let the woman breath. She was behind all of this, he was certain. He couldn't fathom what her motive could possibly be, but that didn't matter at the moment. She knew where the boy was, and she would tell him now. "Where is he?"

The woman took a few shaky breaths and looked over her handy work before meeting his gaze. Brilliant green met smoldering gold as the each examined the other. Finally, the woman had the audacity to smile. "He's gone."

The Inquisitor growled in rage and tightened his grip once again. Her answer was too vague. Did she mean that she had killed the boy? Had she hidden him away somewhere? She couldn't possibly have left him alone. If that were the case, they wouldn't even be in this situation. What had she done with him?

Then it hit him. He had completely forgotten about the other doctors, the ones that had been recently added to his staff after he had rid himself of the traitors. The woman seemed to see the spark of realization in his eye, and her smile widened. "They're all gone," she choked out around his tight grip. "You've lost him, and you'll never get him back."

She raised her left hand, revealing a detonator. "You'll never hurt him again. I'll make sure of that."

* * *

The beat up smuggling vessel would not have been Mira's first choice for an escape vehicle, nor her second or third. If given her pick of any ship in the hangar, this one would have definitely been at the bottom of her list. It looked like it would struggle to start, let alone avoid an extensive barrage of enemy fire. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, but if the Imperials retaliated faster than they had anticipated she didn't like their chances.

The impressive amount of guns mounted around the exterior that became more apparent as the Bridgers drew closer did cause her to reevaluate her initial conclusions. This crew was evidently ready for a fight should they be forced into one. Perhaps the roughed up hull was only due to being caught up in dogfights. Every ship had a story, she supposed, though some showed it more clearly than others.

She realized that she had slowed her pace in her musings and hurried to catch up with Ephraim. She couldn't afford to be so distracted right now. After Emi had unexpectedly changed her role in the escape from distraction to sacrifice, they had fallen a bit behind schedule as they took a few precious moments to register and understand her decision. Now there was no time to waste.

The access hatch of the ship opened with a loud hiss as they approached, revealing a tall, green-skinned being with a fierce expression and arms crossed over their chest. A Barabel, Mira recognized distantly. What in the world had Emi done in her past to build connections with one of the fiercest races in the galaxy?

"Took you long enough," the Barabel growled, tail flicking behind her in annoyance. Mira bit back a sarcastic retort, knowing that angering their allies further would do them little good. However, as stressed as she was, she felt that the situation was in no way improved by the unnecessary biting comment. Yes, they had been slightly slower than they had predicted, but there was no need to be rude about. She tried to convey her feelings on the matter in the glare that she leveled at the warrior that stood between her family and freedom.

The Barabel met her gaze evenly but let the challenge slide. With a frustrated huff, she turned back towards the ship and gestured for them to follow. The Bridgers boarded after her and followed her to the cockpit, supposedly to meet with the captain.

Surprisingly, he came to them. Although, Mira reasoned from the look of surprise that briefly crossed his face, this meeting wasn't planned. He regarded them briefly before looking over their shoulders at the ship's entrance. "Where's Emi?"

The Barabel sighed. "Druce, she did say that she would come after we picked up the others-"

"Don't tell me you believed that load of bull. She's doing something stupid." The man pushed a stray strand of red hair behind his ear as he began to take stock of the weapons he had on his person. "I need to go find her."

"Don't you dare think about charging in on some crazy suicide mission that we'll have to drag your ass out of again. We don't have time!" Another voice called out from the cockpit. A deep shout of agreement sounded off from further within the ship.

"Make time!" The captain shouted back. "This is Emi we're talking about!"

"Exactly," The Barabel butted in. "If Emi's made a decision, we have a better chance of convincing the Empire to give up his power than we do getting her to change her mind."

"I don't care, Vaja! I can be just as stubborn. I refuse to leave her behind."

"None of us want to either!" Cried the voice from the cockpit, sounding indignant at the implication that they would willingly abandon their friend.

"She's kind of forcing our hand," the deep voice pointed out, "Just like every other time she knows you won't agree with her plans."

Druce looked ready to protest again, but a sudden explosion interrupted his efforts. The ship rocked with the force of the shock wave, causing everyone to stumble. There was the distraction, Mira thought numbly.

Ephraim gently shifted Subject 6's sleeping form to hand the captain a small object. Mira didn't know what it was, but Druce's eyes lit up with recognition at the sight of it. "Where did you get this?" he asked quietly, carefully taking the object from Ephraim's hand and holding it as if it would disintegrate at any moment.

"I think you know where," was her husband's only response.

The captain studied the three of them for a moment before pocketing the object. The fire wasn't completely gone from his expression, but he seemed more resigned. "Fine, let's go." As he and Vaja headed for the cockpit, he glanced back at the Bridgers. "I hope you're worth her sacrifice."


	18. Chapter 15

There was something about seeing a Star Destroyer suspended against the unending darkness of the cosmos that sent a shiver of fear down the spine of any unfortunate observer who was close enough to view the massive war machine. Perhaps it was the sheer size of it, or maybe the almost razor sharp design that seemed ready to tear through anything in its path. Whatever the personal reasons, it was obvious that this was a ship designed to intimidate, and it was very adept at accomplishing the affect.

Kanan's growing unease as he observed the looming vessel had less to do with the physical design and more to do with what it stood for. This was a symbol of the Empire, a grim, constant reminder of every unspeakable horror and atrocity committed under its reign. These were the beings responsible for the destruction of his former way of life and countless loved ones, and now they were responsible for taking his padawan and tearing apart his little family of rebellious misfits. The hulking mass of metal before him represented fear, discontent, sorrow, and abrupt farewells to bonds that faded much too soon.

It dredged up memories that were best left forgotten and buried, and left the burning sensation of regret and despair lingering in their wake. He had spent so little time with Ezra. He hadn't had a chance to get through the durasteel walls that the kid had painstakingly built to hide away his past. There hadn't even been enough time for Kanan to open up and share his story, to show that he understood the pain of loss and was there for Ezra if he really needed him. What if he was too late? Would this be another instance where he never got to say goodbye?

A light touch on his shoulder jolted him out of his thoughts and brought him back to the present. He blinked in surprise and took his eyes off of the approaching vessel to glance at the source of the sudden comforting gesture. Hera wasn't looking in his direction, but the concern and support that she showed through that single movement was enough. Her touch reminded him that he wasn't going through this alone, and that the others were also affected by their circumstances. It also reminded him that clinging to the past and wallowing in regret and sorrow would not help them get Ezra back. He needed to focus. This was the moment that mattered.

Hera's gaze shifted, her eyes locking onto his for a brief second. So much could be shared in that brief window of time, but it still wasn't long enough for everything that he wanted to convey to her. Kanan hoped that she could see through his fear and concern to discover his determination and gratitude, just as he could read her trust and support through her nervousness and worry. He needed her to know how much she meant to him. She was a bright light in a galaxy that grew darker every day. She kept him sane and grounded when fate decided it hadn't done enough in it's efforts to make his life a living hell. She gladly leant him her strength during times like this, when his doubts threatened to overwhelm him. He hoped that she could see he lucky he felt to have someone like her by his side.

Suddenly, after a light squeeze of acknowledgement - of what, Kanan couldn't say - the moment was over. He was left to push any questions from it to the back of his mine as his attention was dragged back to the matter at hand. The Star Destroyer was growing bigger by the second, and it wouldn't be too long before the massive ship noticed their arrival. If they were going to have even the slightest chance of possible success, then they were going to have to follow their plan to the letter from here on out, as well as rely on whatever dumb luck that they had that usually turned the tide of a crazy mission in their favor. Hopefully, Druce and his crew were also equipped with the same ridiculous blessing that had saved their skins more times that Kanan cared to think about.

Speaking of their recently acquired ally, Druce's battered smuggling vessel abruptly pulled out of hyperspace to the right of the _Ghost_ , cruising a bit ahead of them. Kanan briefly considered attempting to contact them through their comlink to make sure that everything was still going according to plan, but he decided against it. It hadn't taken the Specters long to realize that their fellow rebels were not the most chatty bunch. Information was shared in short conversations, and any questions posed were met with curt responses or awkward silences. Kanan would have joined Zeb and Sabine in complaining about the usefulness of even asking for their help if Druce hadn't somehow acquired intel on Ezra's whereabouts in a fairly timely manner. It was clear that they were efficient and capable, but it was just as obvious that there was a rift between the two crews. Hera would probably tell him that he was being paranoid, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Druce knew more than he was letting on, or at least had a few guesses that were too close to the truth for comfort. He didn't have any evidence, which would usually put him off this train of thought, but another possible threat to Ezra's safety was enough to sway his opinion on gut feelings.

It was a little late to ask their help to back out now, especially since Druce and his crew were the ones to find usable intel. What kind of message would that send? _Oh, yeah, thanks for telling us where to find our missing crew member. We really appreciate it. Now please get lost._ Could that be any more suspicious? He might as well have Sabine paint the side of the Ghost in vibrant colors to say WE'RE HIDING SOMETHING! No, they had to stick to the plan, despite the feeling worming into his gut that things were about to go very, very _wrong_. They would just have to improvise when things went tits up. It wasn't like that had never had to do that before.

The tight sensation of unease only intensified as they drew closer and closer to the looming mass of grey, reaching a point where the dull metallic color blocked out the multitudes of distant stars from their line of sight. It was almost a subtle, ominous threat, one that never had to be said out loud in order to ring true: the Empire, with all their might and power, was capable of blocking out even the brightest of stars. That kind of strength was enough to make anyone rethink their life choices if they ever found themselves facing off against it.

However, after Kanan thought about it, that wasn't quite what he was feeling. Sure, there was fear, but it faded to the background when it contended with his anger and anticipation. The Empire may be strong, but they had made a grave mistake when they decided to take his padawan and turn him into something he wasn't for their own nefarious purposes. Now there was no possible way of blocking out the shining light of righteous fury, hope, and love that was burning in him and his crew, and they would use that fire to burn down the entire monstrous vessel if they had to. Nothing was going to keep them from making sure that their youngest member was safe and sound, whether that meant protecting him from the Empire or the Rebel Alliance itself.

And if this mission forced them into that position, well, at least they would all be together again.

* * *

The sudden arrival of the rebels was… obnoxious, to say the least. He had assumed that he would have a bit more time to study the boy before his precious crew came to rescue him.

Not that it mattered, of course. If their previous encounter had been anything to go by, he would easily quash this new laughable attempt to thwart his schemes. The Jedi posed the biggest threat out of their whole motley little group, but, even then, his meager skills were nowhere near challenging. Was the man simply incompetent, or had he never completed his training? Judging from his looks, he had probably been a padawan himself during the fall of the Order.

Either way, he mused, the Jedi's weak abilities were inconsequential. When he faced him again, he would be sure to actually go through with killing him instead of letting his excitement and triumph make rash decisions for him. The Jedi's continued existence was a loose thread that could, unlikely as it was, cause his hard work to unravel once more. He did not have time to hastily stitch things together again, and the Emperor and his master would not tolerate another failure on this scale.

With that in mind, he stepped out of the room where the boy was held, only to bump into a harried-looking young officer. The boy offered a quick, somewhat sloppy salute, which the Inquisitor would have ordinarily found offensive if the situation hadn't been what it was, and proceeded to offer a report.

"Sir! Two ships have locked on to us and have begun firing. TIEs have been deployed to keep them at bay."

He nodded absently as the officer discussed countermeasures, more intent on sensing out the Rebels that he was sure were already sneaking around the ship like the rats that they were. "Good. Keep me informed. I believe that a few pests may have managed to slip through our defenses. See to it that they do not make it far."

"Yes, sir!"

The officer ran off, leaving the Inquisitor alone with his thoughts once more. It was certainly interesting. Had the Rebels acquired allies for their rescue mission? This was unexpected. Most cells that he had encountered, and decimated, had been fairly independent. He assumed that it was due to how far apart each group was spread across the galaxy, as well as to maintain some form of secrecy and protection. After all, it would be bad tactics to allow one fallen cell to drag down the whole organization.

Why, then, had these particular Rebels suddenly found reinforcements that they could call in to rescue their missing member. And why had their help agreed in the first place? He couldn't imagine any sensible Rebels wanting to rescue and Imperial weapon and release it into the galaxy. There must be some other hidden agenda behind this little rescue attempt that he wasn't seeing. Did they think that there was some way of turning his weapon against him? Whatever their reasoning was, it would not matter in the end. He would be victorious, and the Empire would once again prove that resistance was futile. There was no way that the boy would ever return to the facade of light that he had created for himself. He would make sure that the Jedi and his little Rebel friends realized that right before he ended their pathetic lives. It would be much more satisfying to have the boy do it for him, but he would have to make do with this alternative.

He was surprised to see that the Jedi had decided to face him alone. The others were nowhere near him as he turned the corner, blue lightsaber already out and blazing with a laughable sense of righteousness and justice. He was quick to discard this thought as he prepared for battle, letting it settle in the back of his mind with his stray observations of Rebels seeking aid from one another. He would enjoy putting this light-loving fool in his place. It was always a pleasure to snuff another Jedi out of existence and send them to join their counterparts, an immense gathering of misguided souls that were no longer relevant or needed in the galaxy. The sense of enjoyment was only heightened by the fact that he would once again be destroying an outside party that dared to try to take away his creation. Once he got rid of this interfering pest, there would be plenty of time for him to correct whatever imperfections were ailing the boy without having to worry about the constant threat of pathetic rescue attempts fueled by misplaced affection. His victory would be assured.

His thoughts etched a cruel smirk on his face as he ignited his own crimson blade to meet the Jedi's first blow head on. The humming and crashing of dueling lightsabers gave him a sense of thrill that no other form of battle would ever come close to matching. These weapons were some of the finest tools of destruction to ever be crafted in the galaxy. He looked forward to prying another one from the cold, dead hands of his enemy and adding it to his collection. The irony of giving this particular blade to the boy to use would certainly be humorous.

He almost laughed out loud at the idea. But no, it was best to hold in such pointless outburst during battle. He put his energy towards taunting his opponent instead. "Your actions are foolish, Jedi. What did you think you would accomplish by coming here?"

The Jedi rudely ignored his words, opting to try to sweep his legs out from under him instead. The cheap tactic sent a flash of annoyance through him. Could the Jedi not fight to his death with dignity?

His confident smirk fell into a frown as he growled, putting more strength behind each of his blows to force the Jedi to give ground. He would not allow the Jedi to ignore him. If the man wanted to challenge him and his hold over the boy, then he would play by his rules. He held the power here, over both the Rebels and the boy. There was no room for another being's force of will in this situation. He was in control.

However, the Jedi still refused to acknowledge him, even as he was forced back down towards the cross section of corridors where he had first appeared. "Do you think that you can save him?" The Inquisitor hissed as he continued his vicious attacks, never once leaving an opening for the Jedi to strike on the offensive. "Did you think that you could simply grab the boy and flee, that you wouldn't be hunted or attacked from the inside by the very crew member that you've risked so much to protect, and that you would all live happily ever after?"

He struck harshly, forcing the Jedi's back against a wall as he slowly pressed their blades closer and closer to the man's throat. "Well," he mused, "it's far too late for that. The boy and his power belong to the Empire. Your interference with destiny has gone on long enough." He allowed a ferocious grin, or perhaps a snarl, stretch across his features. Once this man was gone, there would be no more threats to dispute his claim on his weapon. It was finally time to end this.

The sudden sensation of weightlessness came as a surprise, as did the harsh impact with a wall quite far away from where he had been moments before that followed quickly after. He struggled to remain focused as the Jedi observed him from down the corridor, dimly aware of the fact that the man seemed to have thrown something in his direction. Then the man had the audacity to turn his back on him and walk away with the off-hand remark of "I don't have time for this."

As a small explosive device cheerfully beeped its countdown beside him, he cursed his decision to spare the Jedi during their previous encounter. This man was turning out to be much more trouble than he had ever imagined.

* * *

Tucked out of sight around a corner, Renar Druce pondered over the information that he had just obtained. Quite honestly, he wasn't surprised by this turn of events. There had been too many holes in the intel that the Specters had provided his crew. Not enough to be obvious, but just enough to raise a few eyebrows when put under scrutiny. He had spent a good amount of time dissecting exactly what these other rebels wanted from him and his crew and had come to the conclusion that they were being lied to. He wasn't that put off by this conclusion. You couldn't really trust anyone these days.

What had caught him slightly off guard was the nature of the lie. It was clever of them to separate this dreaded weapon and their missing crew member into two different entities in conversations. After all, who would jump to the conclusion that a living being, a mere _child_ , could become a weapon of mass destruction? It would seem absurd, unless you had seen evidence of something like that before. Which, unfortunately for the _Ghost_ crew, he had. The same evidence that the Jedi was now cradling against his chest.

The kid had definitely grown, but he was easily identifiable as the child that those doctors had carried onto his ship all those years ago. The same child that Emi had sacrificed her life for. The same child that had nearly destroyed his ship mid-flight with nothing more than a thought and a wave of his hand. The same child that he had thought to be dead long ago.

He would have done the deed himself, but the Bridgers had insisted that he let them handle the situation. He had assumed that they had some reason for not letting him blow the kid's brains out right then and there. Maybe he could only be killed using certain methods? He knew several creatures that would fit that description. He hadn't ever entertained the thought that they would let him live.

A child with that much power and with obvious ties to the Empire was too dangerous to just be let loose. What had they been thinking? Had they thought that they could hide him away? There was no way that the Imperials would let someone like him out of their sight without any hard feelings. They would have been relentlessly hunted, and most likely killed for their actions. He could safely assume that the Bridgers were no longer among the living if the kid was now part of an active Rebel cell fighting against the Empire. He doubted that they would have ever let him near such a group in fear of drawing attention to themselves.

Well, whatever they had been trying to do, it had obviously failed. The kid was right back where he started, and in the hands of his supposed "creator" no less. Despite the Jedi's apparent belief in the kid's free will and strength, Druce couldn't see how this could end in anything but a bloodbath. Sure, the kid might be able to fight off whatever control this Inquisitor had over him, but there was still the chance that he couldn't. That wasn't something he was willing, or able, to risk. The Specters might be attached to him, but he had no problem with the idea of killing the kid before he could leave this ship.

This was for the greater good of the galaxy. He was sure that, with time, they would be able to get over it.

* * *

 **You don't mess with a pissed off Kanan. He ain't got time for your shit.**


End file.
